


Things Invisible Go See

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Meetings [11]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Single Father (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Meetings Verse, crossover fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2159283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A volcano erupts and opens the Rift, washing all manner of challenges for Torchwood through it. Things aren't made any easier when Rose is confronted with the fulfilment of her dearest wish while Dave faces demons from the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Notes:** The title is taken from _Song: Go and Catch_ by John Donne.

One

Dave lay on the silvery green duvet, gloriously naked. Laughter bubbled up inside her. He’d promised her he’d make it up to her for the long and boring night.

Rose clamped her hand over her mouth. He was gorgeous and she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. His promise to make it up to her was probably just as much for himself as it had been for her. He was still baffled by his appointment to the Board of the Royal Academy of Art. His inability to accept just how good he was at his job was as endearing as it was infuriating, and clearly his work at the RAoA made a difference in his selection. She knew that he preferred his work at the School of Art, and loathed the compulsory social obligations that came with Board membership.

She shook her head to clear it. The evening, while pleasant, hadn’t been particularly enjoyable and, she had to admit, she’d been looking forward to the celebratory shag that had become their unwritten rule after such events.

Dave looked gorgeous in the soft light of their bedroom, and she licked her lips when her gaze travelled his slim, muscular body. A couple of years before, he’d taken up playing footie again, along with some gentle workout for his back muscles. He was in even better shape than he’d been when they'd first met. 

His cock had also begun to stir, and it was there that her eyes eventually came to rest. A rush of wetness slicked her folds and seeped into her knickers.

Dave reached out for her. “Come here, my love,” he purred.

Rose stood still, only shaking her head minutely. “I’d like to… watch you.”

“Doing what? I’m only lying here.”

Rose lifted the long, slitted skirt of her dress and slipped her fingers into her knickers. Her fingers found her clit immediately, and a rush of pleasure plumped her labia. As expected, Dave’s cock twitched at her image. “That,” she said, glancing unashamedly at her husband’s hardening cock.

Her _husband_.

Even after four years, she sometimes still couldn’t believe they were married. He was hers, and she was his. As much as she’d used to loathe the idea of mutual ownership, even back when she’d travelled with the Doctor, _particularly when_ she’d travelled with the Doctor, she loved it all the more now. And she could understand it. What they had wasn't so much about possessiveness as it was about protecting one another. And, of course, the shagging.

It was amazing, really, how much sex they had. And how good it was.

She trusted Dave unconditionally, and, she knew he trusted her equally.

“Oh,” he said. “That.”

She grinned. “I happen to love that.”

He made that adorable gleeful sound she loved so much.

“ _That_ has been active for quite a while,” she said. “I could feel it when we danced.”

“Ye’re just too sexy, my love,” he said, propping himself on his elbow, still reaching out for her.

She shook her head although more warmth rushed through her. She’d stopped moving her finger inside her knickers, but now she brushed her fingertips over her clit again. She inhaled deeply as the harbingers of bliss prepared her body for the pleasure that was ahead.

“Touch yourself, Dave. Come with me. I want to come so badly,” she said, dropping her voice a few notches. “I want—“

“Aye?” he asked, taking himself in hand, looking at her expectantly.

“I want you to come all over your stomach.”

He deflated a bit at her words.

“I love seeing you come. It’s so sexy.”

He smiled. He’d do anything for her.

“I can live with that.”

She back-pedalled. “I’ll help you.”

He seemed to consider her offer. Then he shook his head. “No. I want to watch you make yourself come. In that dress. Take off your knickers.”

She did as he asked and dropped her lacy underwear without putting on a show.

“Now sit down,” he said.

She draped herself on the pale grey velvet of the chaise longue, hiking up her narrow skirt to make sure Dave could see her from where he was lying on their bed. It was a gorgeous dress that exposed part of her back without displaying her scars to all. The material, while in a narrow cut, was soft and flowing and quite forgiving when it came to creasing it.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dave said softly, lazily running his fingers up and down his cock.

Her mouth was suddenly dry at his words. It did every time he said them. “Dave,” she replied lamely.

The room was shrouded in silence until their arousal slicked their movements and the sounds became slightly wet, softly slapping as their hands moved over their own skin. She chanced a glance over at him. His supporting elbow had buckled beneath him and he was lying, his head thrown back, totally lost in his lust as he pleasured himself.

The picture was so irresistible that Rose stopped caressing herself, stood and padded quietly over to the bed. Dave must have felt the mattress dip beside him as she knelt on the bed, but he was already lost to his pleasure and didn't react to it.

Rose reached for his cock and joined Dave in his rhythmic movements – 

up and down with a twist, just as he liked it, with a quick flick over the sensitive soft head. When their fists reached the root of his erection, she stopped their movement there. Just as he was about to complain she wrapped her lips around his cock and took him as deeply as she could.

She was rewarded with a surprised and undignified gargling sound that was just right.

“Rose,” he managed to say, his hand slipping out from beneath hers and sliding into her chignon, pre-come and all.

Swirling her tongue around his head, she brushed the soft skin of his hard cock with her thumb. The feel of him was intoxicating, and she was mad at him for withholding it from her tonight. Eventually, she took him in her mouth again, grazing his skin with her teeth ever so carefully. He groaned in pleasure; even his fingers in her hair went slack and his hand dropped, limp, onto her thigh.

“Rose,” he sighed. “Oh Rose. What are ye doing to me.”

“I want to see you come all over your stomach,” she whispered close to his ear.

“But—” he protested feebly.

“No, Dave. Allow me,” she said, working him more eagerly now. “Close your eyes.” It had been a while since they’d used a blindfold in their love-making, or since that wonderful night at the castle when they’d made love in complete darkness. She missed the intimacy and quiet of those nights, but she was terrified of repeating them to disappointing results. Maybe they could create another magical memory for themselves.

Straddling his thighs, she managed to control his bucking hips, and when she slid a little to the side she made sure that he could feel her arousal on his thigh. “Come for me, Dave,” she encouraged him.

He cracked open his eyes, but she was quick to close them with her free hand. “No looking now. You’ve been looking at me all night. Think of me as you did then, and allow yourself to shoot.”

What a delicious thought, what a naughty thought. She wanted to take it further but was afraid of pushing him. Instead, she focused on her own fantasies from earlier in the evening. Of taking him in her mouth in one of the darkened, empty corridors, just to give each other some relief and something to look forward to for after the end of the dreary speeches. 

“I want you!” he cried, bucking into her hands. “Please, Rose.”

“How,” she whispered, “how do you want me?”

“Ride me,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to make the magic of the moment last.

Without so much as an acknowledgement she rose, positioned the tip of his cock against her labia and pressed down, taking him in one long, smooth movement.

“Rose,” he sighed, his hands finding her hips for mutual support.

Her hands went to his perfect pecs for reassurance, the wiry hairs there were soft to the touch, his nipples pressed into the centre of her palms. He arched into her, seeking to slide even deeper. Rose rocked forward a little, spreading her legs further to accommodate him. No matter how often they made love, the feeling of being one, of coming home, was as strong as ever.

Dave’s thumb found her clit, and a few practised movements sent her towards a far away place, a place of darkness and warmth where there was no gravity, and nothing but Dave and her, and their love.

He propelled her closer to that magical place by bucking his hips into hers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist and hip. Her ears were filled with their combined moans and the slap-slapping of wet skin against wet skin.

 _I wanted to see you come,_ she thought as she felt his seed fill her. _I wanted to… taste your seed off your skin and hold you afterwards._

Instead, she slumped forward and against him after the spell had been cast, holding her rigid for a few moments as her pleasure convulsed around his cock, massaging every last drop of his come out of him.

His arms wrapped around her back as he held her, nuzzling her neck, his breath coming in irregular puffs.

“Dave,” she sighed, relaxing into him. “I love you.”

“I’d like to kiss you,” he rasped.

It only occurred to her than that they hadn’t kissed since she’d left him to his own devices shortly after they'd got home. Mickey had sent her an email, and she’d checked it quickly, giving Dave time to prepare her seduction.

Rose shifted to kiss him, his cock slipping out of her in the process. As his hands roamed the silk-covered expanse of her torso she remembered that she was still wearing her dress. It was too late now any way, there was no way their love-making hadn’t damaged it. Rose relaxed against him and allowed his tongue and his lips to transport her to that place between pleasure and bliss, that warm and narrow world that their languid kisses created.

Eventually, they broke apart for some air, and Rose was about to make herself comfortable by his side when she felt the dampness of their combined juices trickle down the insides of her thighs. “I’ll just go and clean up,” she said. Usually, it was Dave who offered her tissues from the box on the bedside table for that purpose, but tonight there was that added complication of her being ridiculously overdressed.

Dave hummed in protest, stealing another kiss before releasing her.

She padded into their en-suite and was just about to undo the zip of her dress when Dave appeared in the mirror, standing close behind her. “Here, let me do that,” he said, reaching for the side of her dress, where the zip was hidden by the seam. “You’re so beautiful tonight, Rose. You’re so radiant.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. She did look beautiful, but she’d also used quite a bit of make-up to cover up her exhaustion. One meeting had chased the other for the past few weeks, and in between that she’d had to travel to London several times. 

Dave lowered the zip and helped her take off the dress. He made quick work of her bra, too, and as soon as she was naked he embraced her from behind, one hand on her stomach, the other cupping her breast as he nuzzled her favourite spot just below her ear. “I love you so much, Rose. You make me so happy.”

Warmth suffused her, and as always, his words made her mind go blank. Nothing she could say to him wouldn't seem lame in response. Just saying “I love you too” just didn’t do her emotions justice. Dave had learned to accept the fact, but she still felt bad about it.

“Happy birthday,” he added, turning her in his arms to claim her mouth for another kiss.

“Oh,” she gasped. She hadn’t thought about it at all, proof of how busy she had been recently. And there was no end nigh. Mickey’s email had made sure of that. But she’d decided to deal with its ramifications in the morning. She didn’t want to spoil the evening with the news.

She could feel their combined juices trickle further down the inside of her thigh and she shivered at the sensation. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it felt icky anyway and wanted to clean up.

Dave framed her face with his hands when he felt her lack of enthusiasm. “Are you all right, my love?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” She stepped away from him. Their juices glistened in the light of the bathroom.

“It’s sexy,” he said.

 _It’s such a waste,_ she wanted to say, but held her peace. “I don’t like sleeping in the wet patch,” she said. No matter what they did, it’d always be her, for some reason, who ended up in the wet patch. They’d discussed reverting to condoms, but had dismissed the idea, now that they were used to feeling the softness of each other’s skin, they didn't want to go back to having anything between them. It was one of the things she loved best about making love to Dave. No matter how often they slept with each other, the feeling of his naked cock inside her added a quality to their sex that was hard to put in words.

A knock on their door prevented him from giving her a witty reply.

“The children,” she whispered in alarm.

Reaching for his robe, he kissed the spot on her shoulder and told her to clean up while he took care of them. He put it on quickly on his way out of the en-suite.

Wondering what might be up with the children, Rose quickly took care of herself, including a quick wash of her face to get the make-up off. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she found that Dave was right, no matter how exhausted she was. She did have a healthy glow about her. It was probably just the afterglow. After donning her own robe, she went back to the bedroom.

It would have been completely dark in there if it hadn’t been for the candles on the cake that Paul was holding. That was why she hadn’t heard Dave or the children talk. They’d planned this.

“Happy birthday to you,” they sang, their voices breaking with the excitement and joy of surprising her at midnight with a cake. All four of her children and Lily and Lottie were there, their faces glowing in the orange light of the candles. 

“You!” she cried, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“Happy birthday, Rose!” they cried when they were finished with the song. Evie was the first to run to her for a hug and a kiss, and Rose wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“Thank you so much!” she said, close to tears as she hugged one after the other.

“I hope you’re not mad,” Dave said, kissing her chastely on the mouth. “But I couldn’t say no to them.”

“It’s a Saturday night!” Ewan added. “Why not? We can sleep in tomorrow.”

“Which is when we’ll have the cake,” Lottie added. “Unless you let it burn down.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” Rose said, taking a deep breath to blow out the candles. They were of the typical birthday cake variety, thin sticks of cheap wax that burned down quickly. They were precariously low already. Rose blew at the candles, and the room was immediately cast in darkness. 

Dave had his finger on the light switch, and when the reading lamps came on, they were all momentarily blinded.

“We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow, yeah?” Dave said to the kids. Evie and Ewan looked a little disappointed. Without doubt they had prepared a lovely surprise for her and naturally they couldn’t wait for her to find out what.

“Okay,” Paul said. Picking up the cake to carry it carefully back to the kitchen.

Lottie gave them a dewy bucket with the green and gold neck of a bottle of champagne sticking out from its cover of white napkin before they all filed out of their bedroom. Dave took it from her and carried it to the small table where two glasses stood ready.

“You planned this!” she laughed, closing the door behind Lottie. Their bedroom was usually off limits because they didn’t want to be caught making love. The rule wasn’t much a problem any more, now that Evie wasn’t as dependent as she used to be, and the boys wanted their own privacy.

“Is it okay?”

“It’s lovely. And great timing,” she added. “What if we hadn’t been finished? They didn't hear us, did they?”

“No, they didn’t, I made sure of that.”

“How?”

“Mobile phone. I texted Lottie.”

Rose laughed.

“They would have mutinied if I hadn’t. Seriously. They love you so much, Rose.”

Momentarily overcome by emotion, all she could do was nod. “I love them too. I love _you_. Thank you, Dave.”

He smiled and stole another kiss from her. “Are you too tired for a glass of bubbly?”

Rose shook her head. “Never.”

Dave opened the bottle and poured each of them a glass. They clinked the rims in a quiet toast and drank, still clad in their robes. “I’m so happy,” Rose said after the last of the bubbles had melted away on her tongue.

“I’m glad you are. So am I,” he said. 

For a moment she was tempted to tell Dave about the contents of the email, but if he’d chosen to ignore the fact that she’d checked her messages while he’d been undressing for her, she’d not spoil things now.

Dave put his glass down and fished a small box out of the pocket of his robe. “I hope it’s all right if I give this to you now. I don’t… I want this moment to myself.” He gave her the box.

“Thank you,” she said, rising on the balls of her feet for a quick kiss.

“Open it.”

“You’re as bad as the bairns,” she laughed. She opened the box and revealed a small silver box. “For my jewellery when I have to go on a field trip unexpectedly?” 

He nodded, smiling. “I don’t like the idea of my ring lying about in a drawer in your desk.”

“I have a small box there, but it’s not as beautiful,” she said, inspecting the intricate details, running her fingertips over the silver swirls and dots that came together in an ornate flowery pattern. “Thank you.”

“I don’t like it when you have to go,” he said, and something inside her twisted despite herself, “but this way I know that no one will accidentally dispose of these.” He picked up her hand and pressed his lips to the rings on her left finger. “It’s silly, I know.”

“No, it’s not,” she whispered. She took another sip of her champagne. He took her finger into his mouth as deeply as he could and swirled his tongue around it. Her eyes fluttered shut with a sigh. Dampness flooded her sex once more.

“I want you, Rose.”

He had no idea just how soon she’d have to use the box. “You have me.”


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at Rose, but then he realised he was making a fool of himself, particularly if he ignored what was there in plain sight. Rose had been anxious to check her email last night. She usually only did that when she was involved in urgent cases. Her workload had been huge the past few weeks and he was beginning to worry. Her hipbones and ribs were more pronounced than when he’d first met her. He’d hoped that she’d get the chance to rest after the last case, not to mention all of the Heritage Trust Fund work. Truth be told, her being busy was partly his fault, especially the socialising bit. They'd become the picture book celebrity couple now that he was so highly placed with the art academy.

“Surely you don’t have to leave tonight,” he said. It was Roseday, and he’d planned on taking her to the _Weidenhain_ and shag her senseless afterwards.

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight too.”

He sighed, concentrating on the fruit he was cutting up for their breakfast. The bairns were bustling around them, setting the table and preparing dishes. It was his second-favourite Sunday tradition, and he loved it when all of them, including Lily and Lottie, joined in. Sometimes they’d include their family, and friends from Torchwood and the Academy; that was when the bright, large kitchen became a lively, beautiful place. And, depending on the bairns’ plans they’d stay in or hide away in their love nest. During really busy weeks, like the past few, Roseday would be the only day he’d see her, but sometimes he felt guilty for whisking her away from the bairns, since it was of the only time they'd get to see her too.

“There’s no way you can wait till first thing in the morning?” he asked, feeling horrible for being so whiny and needy. It was his concern talking. Something wasn’t quite right with Rose, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’ll have to leave by ten,” she whispered. “We could sneak away until then?”

“The bairns will be disappointed.”

The pain on Rose’s face made him regret he’d said it. “I know.”

“Isn’t there really anyone else who can go?” What was _wrong_ with him today? Rose was the Sheeryans’ favourite intermediary, and asking her not to help them would be unbelievably rude. They'd also saved his son's life, and he was far too grateful to them to ask her not to help them. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“There is, but the Sheikh knows me, and he trusts me, and they trust me,” she said.

“Will you be travelling with Mickey and Dominic?”

She smiled at that. He trusted the two men to take care of her. “I’d offer to come along but we’ve got the finals coming up and I’ve promised Lottie and a few of the others to help them with their presentations.”

“See? You won’t have time to miss me anyway,” Rose said. She knew that putting the final touches on his students’ work could be very time-consuming. “Why don’t we escape to Hollincote for a few days afterwards?” she suggested. “That way, we’ll have something to look forward to and can do our respective thing without feeling too bad.”

“I love the way you think,” Dave said, leaning down to her for a kiss.

“I’m glad,” she said.

“Eww, stop snogging. We’re about to have breakfast,” Ewan grumbled, his voice finally settling into a lovely male burr.

“You’ll learn to appreciate kissing yet,” Lily said, brushing past him.

But Ewan just made a face and carried the jug of fresh juice to the kitchen table. It was Rita’s old table, but they had sanded and oiled it before moving it into the new kitchen. Ewan still took the time to care for the table once a year; it was his way of honouring his mother's memory.

Lucy brought coffee and tea, and they finally settled around the table.

“How long will you be in the Empty Quarter for, Rose?” Lottie asked, pouring coffee for anyone who wanted it.

“I hope I’ll be back in time for your presentation,” she said, “I don't want to miss it.”

“Can we go on a family holiday this summer?” Ewan asked, surprising all of them. He blushed a little. “We haven’t been on a proper holiday since the summer before the wedding.”

Dave looked from Ewan to the other bairns. It was true. Although they’d all gone away for a week or two since then, they’d not spent the school holidays together since their trip around Scotland. The others nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s a lovely idea,” Rose said when their eyes met.

“Is there somewhere in particular you had in mind?” Dave asked.

Ewan shrugged, as only a lanky, somewhat sullen, teenager can.

“I don’t really mind where we go,” Paul said, smiling in encouragement.

“Can we go and see Nana?” Evie piped up, helping herself to some fruit salad.

“That’s only London,” Ewan protested.

“I’m sure Nana would be happy to have you with her, but I think Ewan’s right. We should go on a proper holiday. No grandparents,” Rose said.

“But Lily,” Lucy said.

“And Lottie,” Evie insisted.

“About that,” Lottie said. She had everyone’s attention now. This was the moment Dave had been afraid of. Lottie had become a part of their family, and it was hard to remember sometimes that she had a real family too. Now that she was about to finish her course at the School of Art he was sure she’d want to move on. “I promised my family I'd visit them for a fortnight in the summer. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Rose said. “You’re not our prisoner.”

“Although I’m sure it sometimes feels like it,” Lucy said.

“Oh, no!” Lottie protested. “It’s just… you are my family now. And I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know the feeling,” Lucy said. Where once her voice might have been laced with a touch of bitterness, now it carried only a sense of understanding.

“You must do what feels right, Lottie. We’ll be happy to have you with us, and you too, of course, Lily, but we’ll understand if you’d rather do something else.”

“Well, maybe she can do both,” Rose suggested.

The children weren’t very happy when she told them that she had to leave for the Empty Quarter that night, and they were downright disappointed when Dave added that they’d be spending the afternoon together in Rose’s house on Broadchurch Place. But the prospect of going away together in the summer seemed to make up for it, because they launched into a lively discussion of potential destinations over the cake Paul had made for Rose.

-:-

He stared at the framed prints of their hands on the wall as he held Rose in his arms. They had created this work of art almost four years ago. They had shared their first kiss over it, a kiss that had shaken him to the core at the time. He turned his head to nuzzle Rose’s hairline. As always, she had snuggled up to him with her head cradled on top of his shoulder, and she caressed him with her breath as she slept. Her fingers were curled loosely between his pecs while her other hand was trapped between their bodies just above the swell of her hip.

Dave brushed his fingers lightly over the twin bands of white gold adorning her left ring finger, then he picked her hand up and kissed her fingers one at a time. Even after all this time he couldn’t believe that they were together. Their lives had taken a bit of a mad twist in the past few months, and he couldn’t help wondering if their routine of Roseday would survive their busy life. So far it had, and if he thought about it, it hadn't been that difficult. Almost everyone they knew was aware that it was their time together and others usually accepted without question that they were unavailable for business meetings on Wednesdays.

“Penny for them,” Rose whispered drowsily.

He took a deep breath. “Will Roseday be enough to keep us together?” 

She shifted away a little so she could see him better. The look of surprise made her appear younger than she was, and he ached for the distress he’d caused her. It had come out completely wrong. “I wasn’t thinking about you going away tonight. Although I’d be lying if I said I'm happy about it. But it’s our life, aye? This mad, wonderful life we have. Only I’ve been wondering about how we can keep all balls in the air.”

“Work-life balance,” Rose said.

He smiled, glad she understood him. “Aye. I’m so happy it scares me.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid of losing it all one day. Of not appreciating every single moment of what we have now, no matter how ordinary or boring it might be.”

“But I think you do. Appreciate every moment,” she said, surprising him. He frowned. “The way you are in every moment we’re together as a family? When we’re with the bairns you’re there for them, all of you. I’ve never seen you absent-minded. And you’re the same when it’s just the two of us in our lovely little bubble. Like now.”

He hadn’t realised that was the case, but he realised she was right. Whatever he did, he dedicated all of his attention to it.

“It’s why I love you so much,” she said. “Well, it’s one reason.”

“There are more?”

“ _How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,_ ” she mumbled, stretching along his side for a kiss. He turned a little towards her to make it easier, and he enjoyed the play of her tongue around his, letting her take the lead. Nothing was nicer than a leisurely snog after they’d made love. It could go anywhere or nowhere at all. Given that Rose was leaving for a few days later he hoped she’d want another shag.

“I want to see you come. And I mean it. Not like last night,” she mumbled in between kisses.

“Wasnae my fault,” he said, the idea creating a very distinct image in his mind. An image that was powerful enough to make him grow hard. “Besides, I always aim to please the birthday girl.”

Rose hummed in reply and began to trail kisses away from his lips.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much after I come,” he warned her, tensing as she found his favourite spots to kiss and nibble.

“You can always use your mouth on me. I’m… more in a mood for it today than your cock,” she said from behind the thick curtain of her hair. She looked up, grazing his chest hair with her short nails. “Is that all right?”

“It’s your birthday, Rose.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to indulge my every whim. It takes two to make love,” she said.

“I want to, aye? I love tasting you,” he growled, hoping that he’d infused his voice with enough passion to convince her. Besides, it was true.

“D’you want me to… help you along?” she asked coyly.

“I want to watch you, but don’t come when I do or you’ll miss it,” he warned, knowing how easily she lost herself in her own pleasure. He had an idea. “We could… I mean, I’ve always wondered what it’s like for you to come. Do you… would it be all right if we…?”

“If I _touched_ you?” she completed his question. The meaning was carried by her intonation alone.

He nodded, his mouth dry and his heart thumping.

“I won’t see you.”

“Oh, right.”

She straddled him without warning. “But I’d love to try it. It’s… intense, though.”

“I want intense.”

She nodded and bent to kiss him. “It might be a bit tricky without physical contact.”

“I’ll hold your hand.”

She looked at him for the longest time, then broke into a wide smile and giggled. He loved it when she laughed like that because she was truly being herself right then. Brushing some loose locks of hair behind her ear he watched in amusement, not quite able to join in her mirth. “What is it, my love?”

“It’s a first.”

“I suppose so. Listen, we don’t have to do it. It was just a _glaikit_ idea.”

Rose shook her head, the locks of hair coming loose again. Her hands were warm on his chest. “No. I love it. It’s just… a wee bit tricky. Starting like this.”

“Ye’re not turned on? With me in yer bed?” He used the sardonic tone more for protection that levity, and it did the job. He was getting better at this.

Rose laughed. “I always am. It’s just… a cold start.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Touch yourself,” she said.

His erection had died down somewhat, so Rose reached for a bottle of oil they kept on the bedside table for these purposes, and she knelt between his thighs, reaching for his cock. “Thank you,” he said.

“I haven’t even started yet.”

“I love it when you do that. It’s as if my birthday’s come early.”

“No, it hasn’t,” she said.

He raised his eyebrow.

“You just wait.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

A wave of pleasure rolled over his body at the prospect, tugging at his cock as he got carried away by it.

Rose poured some oil on her hands to warm it before she started to give him a gentle massage that would keep him aroused for quite a while. He watched her at first. She was completely focused on him, with the loveliest expression on her face, but his eyes finally betrayed him and they fluttered shut as he gave himself over to her touch. 

She'd used just enough oil to provide a bit of friction, but her hands still slid over his skin with ease. Although her touch could be maddening, particularly when she strayed from his cock to caress his torso and thighs, even his ankles and feet He enjoyed the slow build of anticipation that was balanced nicely by a feeling of calm relaxation. The mood had shifted from playful to serene in a matter of minutes. Or was it hours? He lost track of time completely when she became the centre of his world.

He purred at one point, and Rose shifted away from him. He wanted more now. 

He opened his eyes and Rose appeared out of focus at first as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the bedroom. She was still kneeling, but she had spread her thighs and buried one hand between them. It amazed him again and again how much massaging and masturbating him turned her on. She dropped forwards on one hand, as she got carried away by her own pleasure, her hair hiding him from her.

Dave sat up and pushed his right hand into the tangled mass of her hair to cup her cheek, hopefully establishing a telepathic link between them. For a few moments he concentrated on opening himself to her, afraid at first he might not be able to without her guidance, but then a foreign wave of pleasure washed over him without warning and he gasped.

That was Rose’s arousal, the feeling intense and centering on the man before her in her bed, naked and hard, and ready to fuck the living daylights out of her if she'd let him. The image was so powerful that his body reacted as one with hers, and he felt his own orgasm come on with a suddenness that threatened to overwhelm him. He’d have to let her come first so she could see him, but that thought was forgotten when she cried out.

His feelings had found their way into her consciousness, redoubling her pleasure. She cried his name, and when she reared away, throwing her head back and arching her body towards him, he lost grip on her, but their connection remained strong without it. He reached for her free hand to anchor himself to her as he reached for his cock to relieve some of the strain, giving himself a few tugs.

Rose came first, throwing her head back so he could see the length of her exposed throat. The storm that carried her away picked him up like a loose leaf too and he followed her with a moan and a few last tugs on his cock.

Their orgasm washed over them with an almost painful ache, their bodies dissolving into fluid that slicked her sex even further and bathed her stomach in his seed.

-:-

“That was lovely,” she purred as she lay back against his chest in the tub. He encircled her with his arms and pressed a kiss to her wet temple.

“Glad to be of service.”

After their joint orgasm, he’d licked her to another orgasm, and just now he’d been unable to keep his hands off her. This last orgasm had been one of the mellow, sleepy kind he almost liked best because he could rest assured that Rose was completely relaxed and all his.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” she sighed, snuggling into him as he reached for the sponge to wash her.

“So do I,” he said, “but what with the finals coming up we probably wouldn’t see each other much anyway.”

“I can’t wait to see what Lottie’s come up with. And I still can’t believe she’s managed to keep it secret for such a long time," she whispered.

“It’s so special that it defies description,” he said.

“I don’t want to lose her,” she confessed.

“Nor do I. She’s one of us now.” He dropped the sponge and ran his bare hands over the wet expanse of Rose’s skin. He loved doing that, but it was all lazy caress now, to soothe and bring them back to reality after a long afternoon of making love. He was starting to get peckish, but he didn’t want to let go of her just yet.

“I’m glad we kept the house,” Rose said, trailing her pruned-up fingers over his skin.

“Aye. Shall we meet here when you return from the Empty Quarter on Wednesday? I’ll wait for ye.”

“Naked, in bed?” she asked, turning in interest.

“If that’s what ye want. I might come up with something else entirely, though.”

She giggled and he rolled his eyes. “You and your filthy little mind, Rose Tyler.”

“You corrupted me, making sweet love to me all afternoon.”

They had a quick dinner of some pasta and a glass of red wine for Rose to take the edge off the strain of air travel before they got into the car and Dave drove her to the Priory, where Aquiouk and Semimnan were waiting for her. Dave greeted them warmly, and for a moment he wondered which of them was happier to see the other — he, because they’d saved Paul’s life, or they, because helping Paul had been a seminal step in their research.

Dominic was there too, standing a little to the side, the image of misery itself. “You look like hell,” Dave said to Dominic after he’d greeted their alien visitors.

“Yeah,” the doctor said. He was pale and his cheekbones, usually of the beautifully chiselled variety, looked particularly sharp in the orange light of the courtyard. “It’s over between me and Maggie.”

“Sorry, mate,” Dave said, feeling for the younger man. They were slowly becoming friends — slowly because Dominic worked a crazy schedule between the Priory and at the Old Royal Infirmary. Dave briefly wondered if that might be the reason why the relationship with difficult Maggie hadn’t lasted. He doubted it. More likely, Dominic was just too kind for the likes of her. She’d manipulated him and made him feel bad whenever he had met the two of them together. As far as Dave was concerned, losing Maggie was a good thing, but of course Dominic would feel differently about it for a while yet.

“We should go for a drink when ye’re back,” he offered, grateful for the time he’d just spent with Rose and the prospect of fucking her into Thursday when she returned from the trip.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Take care of her, aye?” Dave said, and, because he couldn’t help himself, “I’m a little worried about her.”

“I will, don’t worry, Dave.”

After one last kiss good-bye, Rose and Dominic got in the dark BMW, and Jake took them to the airport. Dave got into his car with a heavy sigh and drove home, to the huge house on Hillingdon Drive.


	3. Chapter 3

Dominic was glad that Dave had asked him to look after Rose because it was a welcome distraction. He’d have done it anyway. He was worried about her too, and Dave’s request confirmed that he hadn’t imagined her condition — although he’d have preferred to be wrong. Rose wasn’t an easy patient, and if he didn’t have anything to go by apart from his and Dave’s impression, things were going to be tricky.

Rose looked thinner than usual, and she was pale. She’d worked hard in the past few weeks, and what she needed most of all was some rest, and not just a couple of days. She needed a couple of weeks at least. All he could do on this trip was to make sure, as unobtrusively as possible, that she had enough to eat, and that she slept. He knew her well enough to know that she tended to skip meals when under a lot of pressure; stress did that to her.

Thankfully, they had the airline lounge almost to themselves, but since they were travelling with Aquiouk and Semimnan, a private conversation was out of the question. He did make sure, however, that she was properly hydrated when they finally boarded the plane.

“How’re you doing?” she asked, strapping herself into her seat. The thin blanket and small pillow the airline provided for overnight flights were in her lap, as well as her mp3-player and a high-end, stylish set of headphones. 

He’d brought a hefty volume to read; he’d been wanting to read the book for a while and he hoped that the flight would give him the time he needed to get so invested in the story that he’d actually finish it. “I’m okay,” he said, fastening his own seat belt.

“You don’t look it,” she insisted. “She’s not worth it, you know.”

That startled him. Rose usually gave people the benefit of the doubt, and even in hindsight she always found something kind to say about them. That she was so unequivocally outspoken about Maggie surprised him. If he didn’t know her better, he’d say she was protective of him.

The notion made him blink. “I’d seen it coming for a while, but it still hurts. That she gave up on us so readily.”

Rose took his hand. “Exactly. It’s she who gave up. Not you. And if she isn’t ready to accept you for who you are, crazy work schedule included, then I doubt that she’d be willing to really go through thick and thin with you.”

He rested his head against the back of the seat and looked at her. “That’s what everyone’s been telling me.”

Rose smiled. “I know it’s hard. It’s not going to be a problem, though, is it? You and I pretending we’re a married couple again?”

He smiled and gave her fingers a squeeze. “No, it’s not.” 

He meant it as he looked at the fake wedding ring on his finger. It was true that he’d had a crush on Rose at first, but that hadn’t been much of a problem, especially when he’d seen how much she loved Dave. And it wasn’t going to be a problem now, because whatever future he had envisioned for him and Maggie, marriage hadn’t been it. His eyebrows knit together at the idea. 

It was a relief to understand that, because he did want to get married eventually, and if he couldn’t see himself as someone’s husband, or otherwise committed to them for the long run, then she could hardly be Mrs Right, could she? 

“Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?” Rose asked.

He closed his eyes as he shook his head, touched by how much she cared. He should be looking after her, and somehow she'd managed to turn the tables. How did she do that? “No, but thanks. I’m sure I’ll work through it eventually.”

Whatever _it_ was. Hurt pride? The idea that he might not be cut out for long-lived relationships? That there was no woman out there for him?

The flight was calm and smooth, and after a drink and a light snack the lights went down in the cabin. He tried to get some sleep, the book a reassuring weight on his lap.

The upcoming mission kept him awake, however. It should be straightforward: travel to the desert to help the Sheeryans in their negotiations with the Bedouin tribe. The specimens of rare seeds they had acquired four years ago had worked nicely to save their own version of the plant, and now they wanted more.

It had been his first full mission for Torchwood, and he remembered trying to get over his crush on Rose. It had been more difficult than he let on — harder even than he'd been ready to admit to himself. But eventually he’d managed to come to terms with it and he was very glad that they were just friends. Having Dave’s blessing made things easier — not that he’d have stopped caring for her even if he hadn't. When it came to the Torchwood agents’ health there was an unwritten rule that the medical officer in charge outranked everyone. 

He’d had to grow into that role. His inexperience with aliens made him second guess himself. But now he had refined the salve for Uggsomegaut bites, and one of the tasks he’d set himself was to develop a fluid version that could be used in EpiPens. That way, mission sizes could be reduced and might not need to be aborted if one agent went down in the field. They’d just administer the EpiPen in situ and continue. The bite would still have to be treated, but at least the hallucinogenic qualities of the Uggsomegaut poison would be quickly neutralised.

He jumped a little when Rose shifted in the seat beside him, turning to rest her head on his shoulder. Stiffening at first, he relaxed and turned a little to accommodate her better. Rose stirred and he whispered, “It’s okay, Rose. Just get some rest.”

It occurred to him then that it was Rose’s birthday today. He checked his watch. Yesterday. He didn’t have a present for her, nor had he wished her many happy returns. That was something he’d have to change once they’d landed. Since they’d arrive in the grey hours of the morning they’d continue straight on to the desert village, making the most of the cool temperature. There would be no time to get her anything.

Rose hummed in her sleep and shifted yet again, making it necessary for him to drape his arm around her so it wouldn’t fall asleep with her weight on it.

_I need something for her birthday._

_Maybe a late gift will do, when we’re back in Glasgow._

He felt his cheek coming to rest on the top of her head, and he drifted off too. _A nice gift. Make the antidote available for EpiPens. Maybe change this dosage, add a little bit of…_

“Dominichenley?”

“What?” He jerked awake at once, years of training and graveyard shifts kicking in. Rose shifted away from him with a sigh of complaint, but didn’t wake. Aquiouk was crouching beside him in the narrow aisle. The lights were still down, so he couldn’t have been asleep for long. “Is everything all right?”

“It is, on this flight.”

“What are you telling me?”

“We’ve just been alerted of strong seismic activity in Earth’s northern hemisphere.”

He blinked, not sure why they were telling him this. “Is it St Andrew’s Fault? Northern America?”

Aquiouk showed him a map on the Sheeryan version of a tablet. “Iceland?” he muttered, frowning. “I’m afraid earthquakes aren’t my forte.”

“I think what my Head Scientist is getting at is volcanic activity. There are quite a few active volcanoes in that country, Iceland?”

“Yeah,” he replied, still not sure why Aquiouk had woken him. “There’s no need to worry. We’ll be quite safe in the Empty Quarter. As will your people in Glasgow be. Icelandic volcanoes aren’t exactly known for their disruptive power. People there even benefit from the geothermal activity.”

Aquiouk deactivated his tablet. “I just thought I’d ask, Dominichenley. I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted your rest.”

“Please, call me Dominic. There’s no need to be so formal,” he replied, hoping that he hadn’t overstepped a line in Sheeryan etiquette.

Aquiouk pressed his hand to the top of his chest and bowed slightly. “Thank you kindly. Please, never mind me.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. Volcanic, or rather, seismic activity in Iceland. That shouldn’t affect them at all. What he did wonder, however, was if it would affect the Rift in any way. Surely, folks at Glasgow had picked it up by now, if the Sheeryan had.

Their ship was orbiting Earth, if not fully cloaked like a Vulcan Bird of Prey, their presence was masked from terrestrial radio and scanning activity. The shuttle with which Aquiouk and Semimnan had completed the leg from the ship to Torchwood was safely parked in the erstwhile Glasgow field office, a disused warehouse large enough for exactly that purpose. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, but he might be able to when their mission was over.

He checked on Rose. She had tucked the small pillow between the back of the seat and the bulkhead and curled up in her seat. The headphones and mp3-player were lying on the floor, forgotten. He adjusted the blanket around her a little. The sky outside her window was beginning to lighten as they continued on their journey towards the aurora. 

It was strange that Aquiouk should wake him over the seismic activity. Should he be worried? He turned around in his seat to check on the two aliens a couple of rows behind him, but Semimnan seemed to be asleep and Aquiouk’s seat was empty. He’d probably popped to the loo before the rest of the cabin woke and started queuing. Maybe he should do the same.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he stood on stiff legs and walked down the aisle. Aquiouk was indeed just leaving the tiny lavatory. “Why did you tell me about the seismic activity?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing and my Head Scientist was just curious. It helps having an Earthling to ask about matters like that,” Aquiouk said. “I’ve already passed your comments on to him.”

“I’m really not the person to go to with this kind of thing,” Dominic protested. “I’m a doctor, not a geologist.” He smirked inwardly. Sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from making that little joke, even if it was totally lost on someone like Aquiouk.

To his surprise, the alien grinned. “I’d been wondering when you’d make that joke. It’s from your Star Trek motion pictures, isn’t it? I’m quite fond of Bones and the Doctor.”

“You know Star Trek?”

“Oh yes. Studying target cultures is part of our training, depending on which planet we’re going to. Just wearing a shimmer won’t do if we’re to blend in.”

“Then you should stop addressing people by their full name,” Dominic said kindly.

“Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish between given and family names. We only have one name, you see, and in some Earth countries people have long names or give their family names first,” Aquiouk said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You’re doing a great job.”

Again, Aquiouk bowed slightly with his hand on his chest. “Thank you, Dominichenley.”

It wasn't till a few minutes later, as he washed his hands in the tiny sink and splashed some water in his face, that he realised his faux pas. By addressing him with his full name, Aquiouk was showing his respect for him, particularly when it came in the company of the bow. “You’re an idiot, Dominic,” he muttered.

Outside the lavatory, a queue had started to form.

-:-

Just like the first time they had arrived in the Bedouin village, they were greeted with great fanfare before being bundled off into their respective tents to shelter from the heat until the shadows began to lengthen and people could conduct their life outside again.

Of course, he and Rose were assigned a tent together, while the Sheeryans got a tent of their own in which they could return to their original blue, four-armed forms. According to Semimnan, the hot, dry climate didn’t bother them at all, since conditions on Sheer were quite similar.

Dominic sat down to read his book, turning his back to Rose to give her some privacy while she freshened up. They had learned from their first trip and both of them had used the time while they were waiting for their luggage to go to the loo and wet a towel they’d brought in their carry-on case and seal it in a plastic bag to keep it wet for the trip into the desert. Unfortunately, there’d been no time to shower at the airport, so a sponge bath would have to do for now. But, if everything went well and they weren’t delayed by a sand storm again, they’d be in their hotel room this time tomorrow, to luxuriate under a real shower.

Still, he was excited to be back. The Bedouin life style, while not as romantic as the books of his childhood had suggested, did have a certain appeal, and he had decided to make the most of it. The Sheikh’s hospitality was something else, and he liked the simplicity of their life — the prolonged afternoon rest included.

Maggie crossed his mind. She’d certainly enjoy a trip to Arabia, to get an idea of all the luxury and only the tiniest, disneyfied idea of what this culture was like. Dominic shook his head to clear his sleep-addled mind of her.

“Are you all right?” Rose asked from behind him. The plastic bag rustled as she stowed away her wet towel. With any luck, it might be usable, if not fresh, in the morning. At least they weren’t in tropical climes.

“Just thinking about her. Maggie. How she’d like it here,” he said, closing his book with a sigh. He forgot to place his bookmark and shook his head again.

“It’ll be a while before you stop thinking things like that,” Rose said. “I know what it’s like.”

He turned around, forgetting to ask if she was decent. Fortunately, she was. “You’ve got Dave now.”

She smiled, taking off her loose linen trousers. “That I do, but believe me I’ve had my share of frogs before I met him — and they didn’t turn into anything like a prince when I kissed them.”

“Including the Doctor?”

“Excluding him,” she said. “We… weren’t physical, not anything that went beyond hugging.”

“And that works?” he asked sceptically.

“It does, but it isn’t easy.”

“I can imagine.” _With someone as beautiful as you. I’d not be able to keep me hands off you_. “Oh, before I forget. Happy belated birthday. It completely slipped my mind yesterday.”

“Thank you,” she said, delight raising her voice and making her eyes sparkle.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a present for your either.”

“You don’t have to give me anything, Dominic.”

“I want to.”

She smiled, taking the brush out of her bag to work it through her tangled mane.

“The oddest thing happened on the plane,” he said.

“What’s that?” He watched her work the brush through her hair. There was the soft crackle of electricity and a soft whooshing sound. He remembered the sound from his childhood, when his mother had worked out the tangles in his sister’s hair, only back then his sister had squealed when his mother had tugged a little too forcefully. 

“I was thinking about the Uggsomegauts.”

“Yeah? How’s the antidote coming along?”

“I’m stuck at the moment, but I’m sure I’ll work it out soon enough. When I’m not obsessing over it too much,” he said. “What occurred to me was that the Uggsomegauts appearances don't seem to be random. I'm sure that I can see a pattern to them.”

“Really?”

“I’m pretty sure. I’ll have to check when we get back to the Priory.”

“Hmm. I wonder why that is?”

“Beats me,” he shrugged. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since our last encounter.”

“It’s why I’m so anxious to finish the antidote.”

“I’m sorry to say it, but I hope we won’t have to use it too often,” Rose said. “Dave’s mum died from an Uggsomegaut bite.”

He’d had no idea. “When was that?”

“Oh, ages ago. He was sixteen. He only found out four years ago, when he asked me to look into the case.”

“The case?” he asked.

“Yeah, her death was suspicious in a way. She’d driven her car off the road for no obvious reason. Torchwood got interested, that’s why I could tell him,” she explained, plaiting her hair so it would lie neatly under her veil.

Dave had been thrown into the rather deep end of the pool when he’d met Rose. Until the night he’d found her in the street, he’d had not known anything about Torchwood or alien activity. Just like him. Dominic still wasn’t sure why they had chosen him of all people to treat Rose’s injuries. Maybe it had just been dumb luck, but he was glad he’d traded shifts with a colleague that night. He’d not have this fantastic job with all its challenges and demands. He was sure that if he’d stayed on at the Old Royal he’d have got bored eventually. Developing antidotes was for lab rats, and he loved working with his patients too much to give it up for being tucked away in a lab all day. “How did he react?” 

“Better than his father,” she said, tying the plait with an elastic. “But he hates it when I’m on a mission involving Uggsomegauts.”

“Well, with any luck, and my muse feeding me next week, he won’t have to worry too much about you any more. I’m so close to a breakthrough with the antidote,” he said.

Rose laughed. “Let’s hope so.”

“You look a lot better now. Rested,” he observed.

“I’d like to catch a quick nap anyway, if you don’t mind. I might have looked asleep on the plane but I feel as if I haven’t slept in days,” she said.

“Don’t worry about me," he smiled, starting to unbutton his shirt. He wanted a quick sponge bath too, and maybe he could get through another chapter or two. The book was a lot better than he’d expected, and he couldn’t wait to retreat back into to the world of the book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you've ever been in a house fire you might want to stop reading at * and skip ahead to the end, where you'll find a quick summary of events.**
> 
> Obviously, the events in the chapter were inspired by recent tragic events at the real Glasgow School of Art. By including them here I do not mean any disrespect. My sympathies are with the students; this is merely my attempt to imagine what it must have been like, and I'm afraid I'm not doing it justice. My sincere apologies.

_Rose arrived in the Rub’ al-Khali safe and sound,_ Dave texted the bairns. It was one of the concessions they’d won from Rose when she had to go away on business, regardless of whether it was for Torchwood or the National Heritage Trust. The children knew about Torchwood so there was no reason to keep it secret from them and telling them where she was, they’d reasoned, could hardly jeopardise the mission. Particularly if she was on diplomatic business, rather than an investigative one.

He had spent the morning in the office working on paperwork. No matter how often he told himself to tackle it regularly so it didn’t pile up, he somehow always found something else that was more important. The only thing he took care of as soon as possible were the bills and invoices, the former in order to keep his credit clean with his vendors and the latter to assure that he could put food on their table and keep them warm and clothed. Although it wasn’t much of a problem now that they had Rose’s income too, he insisted on his regular contribution to their shared household account.

Fishing one of the long, thin strands of pasta from the bubbling water, he held it under the tap to cool it off before trying it. But he could feel, as he held the noodle under the tap, that it was perfectly done. The timing couldn’t be any better. He could hear Lottie in the hall.

He’d feared that he might have to drag her out of her studio kicking and screaming, but that wasn’t necessary. Putting a colander in the sink, he emptied the contents of the pot into it to drain the pasta, stepping back as the steam billowed up and into his face.

“Pasta’s just ready,” he said as he heard Lottie’s steps behind him.

“Great, I’m famished. My hands are shaking so badly I can’t even hold a pencil properly.”

“It _is_ rather late for lunch. Can you manage the plates and cutlery?” he asked, turning around.

“Sure. Is it just us?”

“Aye.” Returning the pasta to the pot, he added a healthy amount of Rose’s home-made pesto, a dribble of olive oil, and mixed everything vigorously. Although it was a simple meal, he always made a point of doing it properly.

By the time he put the pot down on the table, Lottie had finished setting the table and was pouring them some water. He got the cheese and then they sat down.

“Have you slain the dragon hoarding the paperwork?” she asked as she held out her plate so he could fill it with the food.

“Oh yes. It’s why it took me so long to throw together lunch. Next time—”

Lottie laughed.

“I know!” he groaned in exaggerated exasperation.

“This is really good,” she said.

“I learned from the best,” he replied with a wink. Spaghetti with pesto sauce hadn’t been on his menu before Lottie had arrived. “How’s it going?”

Now it was her turn to groan. “Don’t ask! I feel like I’m getting it all wrong and I keep finding a million things I could improve or that I’d change completely if I had time.”

He smiled. “I’m sure that’s just that: a feeling. I know your work. It’s great.”

She waved in horror. “You’re not getting a sneak peek!”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, but there was laughter in his voice. Lottie had been adamant that he not help her with her work so her fellow students, some of whom were capricious to put it mildly, had no ammunition to cry foul. “Not until everyone else sees it and I’ll help the rest of the class set up their exhibits too. When did we say we wanted to start?”

“At half one. Beattie’s picking up Evie from school and the boys are taking care of themselves. Ewan has footie practise and Paul wants to make the most of the quiet to get some revision done,” she rattled off.

He smiled, putting his fork down. “You’re amazing, Lottie. Despite your finals you still run this family better than I ever have.”

“Nonsense. You did well before I arrived. What you need is a little more self-confidence.”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he picked up his fork again. She had a point. “What are your plans for after the summer? We never discussed that last night.”

“And I’m afraid I can’t discuss them with you now either. I have something promising on the horizon, but it all depends on my finals.”

He sighed. “I’m afraid of losing you, Lottie.”

Lottie ducked her head and bit her lip. 

They continued their meal in silence. Her reaction spoke volumes. While he was glad that she apparently had good prospects for life after the School of Art, he was loathe to see her go. She really was family now, and would leave a massive hole behind if she went away, one that he wasn’t sure he'd ever be able to fill. No one could possibly live up to her standards. Rose and he trusted her unconditionally, and the bairns loved her. While the boys had grown up considerably and could be left to their own devices occasionally, Evie still needed a lot of guidance. And although Lucy still lived with them neither he nor Rose wanted her to feel responsible for her little sister. It wasn’t fair, not when Lucy had a busy life with Lily and her studies at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.

“I’ve spoilt the mood, haven’t I?” Lottie said as she loaded the dishwasher.

He shook his head. “Not spoilt, no. Just… you’re part of the family, and we’ll be sorry to see you go.”

She didn’t reply, but moved toward the stairs to begin to retrieve her artwork from her room so they could get started setting up the exhibits.

“Is that all?” Dave asked, surveying the back of the Volvo. The cardboard boxes they’d put in the boot didn’t look like much, but they were heavy and bore _Fragile_ stickers. He’d have expected something… more substantial, based on some of the projects he’d seen in the past. _But Lottie doesn’t do massive._

“Yep,” she said cheerfully. “The rest is at the school. Come on! I can’t wait to show you.”

What he’d seen of her work so far, strategically displayed in a room as objets d’art was unassuming, but it did have psychological impact. In trying to understand the human condition, Lottie always managed to bring her clay sculptures and drawings to life. 

Dave checked the arrangement of the boxes to make sure that they wouldn't shift on the drive to Renfrew Street. 

He smiled. His curiosity won over his sadness about a future without her in the house.

-:-

“Do you mind helping Marcin over there with his photos?” Lottie asked sweetly once he’d deposited the last of the boxes in front of the bit of wall that had been assigned to her. 

“You don’t want me to help with the unpacking?” He’d tried hard not to allow his disappointment to seep into his voice, but he failed miserably.

“I’d like you to see them when I’m almost done putting them up,” Lottie consoled him. “Although, if you want to help me first, I need these display pedestals from the store room.” She gave him a folded note that had worn smooth from being carried in the back pocket of her jeans. “If that’s okay. I hate it to use you as my errand boy.”

He smiled. “No, that’s fine.”

He got a small cart for the four pedestals; they had just received a fresh coat of off-white paint and came in four different heights. When he returned with them to Lottie’s part of the wall, she was already busy measuring its dimensions.

“Shouldn’t you have done that before planning your display?” he joked, knowing full well that she’d prepared meticulously for her big day.

“Ha-ha,” she said. “Come one, you can help me with this.” She held up a measuring tape.

“What about the lad with the photos? Marcin?” 

“He had a major meltdown.”

“Shouldn’t I?” he asked, making a helpless gesture. He didn’t even know the lad, but he knew how horrible a moment of doubt could be. If there was anything he could do to help him, he’d do it.

“He won’t respond to anyone for a while. Give him some time and he’ll listen to what you have to say,” she advised.

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Then he took the measuring tape and followed Lottie’s instructions. She was outlining a grid to hang the pictures, that much was clear. What was less obvious, however, was the fact that she needed two additional hooks just beneath the bottom edge of each frame. When she checked their positions by hanging a white box the size of a tissue dispenser, he was none the wiser.

“I’m mystified,” he confessed. Turning around, he saw that the boxes he’d brought were still closed.

Lottie gifted him only with a knowing, but slightly nervous, smile before they continued to put up three more such boxes. Eventually, she stepped back, surveying her work. “Let’s position the —” 

With a resounding crack the lights went out. They’d been so engrossed in their work — interrupted only once for a cuppa and a snack, that they hadn’t noticed darkness falling and the lights coming on.

“That’ll either be a fuse or a blackout,” someone commented.

Another added, looking out of the window to check the streetlights, “That’d be a fuse.”

“Sorry!” a third person yelled. “It’s the projector and all the other electric devices. I’m on it. Have tea on me!”

“How, _kretyn_? Kettles don’t work,” growled a short, stocky lad with a strong accent.

“Sorry! I’m on it!”

“ _Kretyn_!”

Lottie stepped towards her angry friend and gently touched his shoulder. By now, what remained of the daylight and the street lights were enough for their eyes to find their way around the boxes and pedestals without knocking anything over. “Marcin, meet Mr Tiler. He’s been waiting to talk to you. About your problem.”

The young man’s face lit up when he looked at Lottie, and Dave wondered for a moment if there was more going on between them than just friendship, but he quickly dismissed that thought. Lottie was a friendly person. It was just his fear of losing her speaking.

“Mr Tiler, what a pleasure!” Marcin said, grinning widely. His blond hair was long and floppy and kept veiling his eyes. Marcin extended his hand and shook Dave's with surprising strength. “I’ve seen you, but I never that knew you were Mr Tiler. Lottie is always telling me how wonderful you are. And I am big fan too!”

“Thank you,” Dave said, a little embarrassed. Although he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t appreciate the compliment, he saw himself as a teacher mostly, undeserving of hero-worship. All he wanted to do was pass what he’d learned on to young aspiring artists. “How can I help you?”

“I’m afraid you can’t,” Marcin growled. “Not without light.”

“Folks?” the boy with the projector cried. “I’m sorry but we won’t be able to fix this tonight.”

“Fuses are fucking ancient in here,” Marcin growled, and then, louder, “we’ll never finish!”

“Yes, we will. Now get your coat and your photos,” Dave said, switching to his business-like mode. “My studio is just around the corner. I’ll take a quick look.” Checking his watch he realised that it was far later than he’d thought. Hopefully, the boys had been hungry enough to make themselves some sandwiches.

On the way to the studio he rang Beattie. She’d taken Evie home and prepared tea for her and the boys, and she was now reading in the lounge, waiting for him and Lottie to return. “I’m sorry, Beattie. I’m helping Lottie out with her degree show, and we lost track of the time,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t worry, love, I hadn’t planned anything for tonight. Besides, I hadn’t seen the bairns in a while.”

“Thank you, Beattie, you’re a star. We won’t be long now.”

-:-

The next day they went back to the School of Art first thing in the morning to put the finishing touches on Lottie’s exhibit, and to help some of her friends with theirs. They both felt it was only fair that he give those with photography projects some last minute tips. Marcin had worked through the night and redone some of his prints. They were even more stunning now — his work was great to begin with, but with a little tweaking some had become truly remarkable. There was some amazing work, some of which was so good — clever manipulations and collages of people and animals, of people becoming part animal to show their nature — that he wished he’d done them. But some of the students were great admirers of his work, and they eventually had to tear themselves away from asking him questions to get their own work done.

All Lottie had to do was put up the pictures, fill the boxes, and arrange whatever she planned to put on the display pedestals.

“So do I finally get to see your work or do I have to wait for the big reveal?” Dave asked.

Lottie sighed, crouching by the first of her boxes. “I’m not sure, really. What would you like? Discover the thing bit by bit or take it in in its entirety, all at once?”

“I think,” he said, the glottal sounding almost like a clack in the back of his throat, “I’ll check if anyone needs my help and come back later.” The answer came naturally, as if he’d dwelled on it for a long time, when really the words erupted without warning.

“Good decision,” Lottie replied, grinning. “Off you pop then.”

“Aye, ma’am.” He mock-saluted her and went to find one of the helpless students who needed assistance with power tools. He’d been called away several times to help drill a hole or use a jigsaw. To be honest, he was more than a little afraid of the latter, but he took a deep breath and cut the plywood according to the girl’s instructions.

The extensive use of electrical equipment in addition to the projector that had blown the fuse the previous night caused the power to spike again with a crackling sound, and the narrow blade of the jigsaw stuck in the middle of the cut he was trying to make.

“Sorry!” the guy with the projector cried again.

Dave gently wiggled the stuck saw out of the cut and rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, we're all a bit at fault. The wiring in this place is be ancient and it can’t cope with the amount of power we're all using. Look at all those light installations and films people are showing,” he muttered.

The girl he’d been helping looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Dave and Lottie took that moment as their cue to break for lunch, which they had in his studio. A new café had opened nearby, and they picked up sandwiches and salads, taking them out to the small patio behind his studio.

“How’s the exhibit coming?” he asked, cramming the last of the sandwich into his mouth.

“I’m almost done. Didn’t you see it?”

He shook his head. “I went out of the door at the other end of the studio to use the loo before we left.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, I meant it when I said I’d like to see it when it’s complete.”

“I’ll only need a few more minutes when we get back,” Lottie replied.

The fuse was fixed when they returned, but the caretaker looked anything but pleased, admonishing them to limit the devices they used at the same time to prevent the fuse from blowing again.

Dave finished cutting the board for the girl and then returned to Lottie’s assigned bit of wall.

What he saw made him stop at a good distance from it. Looking back at him from the pictures mounted on the wall and the pedestals were his bairns. In addition to drawing them, Lottie had made busts of them in clay. The sculptures showed the bairns in their mid-thirties, but he recognised them at once. She had captured their essence perfectly, what made each of them unique. The lighting gleamed on their glazed faces, catching highlights and creating starbursts on the prominent bits of their face. The beauty of it was that the starbursts moved when he did.

What was most heart-wrenching was the fact that Evie, at twenty-nine, was the spitting image of her mother, with the exception of her mouth, which revealed his genes. Lucy looked a bit more like Stuart; she already did, now that she was grown up, but her resemblance to Rita as well as her siblings was stunning. The boys looked more like him ten years ago although their faces were a bit fuller. Thankfully, Lottie had seen that they had inherited their mother’s nose rather than his wonky one.

“Do you like them?” Lottie asked softly.

He’d been so enraptured in the sculptures that he hadn’t noticed her joining him where he stood, still several meters away from the display.

His voice cracked as he began to speak and he had to start over. “They’re stunning.”

“They are?”

“Aye. They’re… it’s like looking into the future. You’ve captured them so well. I… I’m afraid I don’t know what else to say right now.”

“But you like them?”

“I love them,” he squeaked.

Lottie took his arm and led him closer to the display on the wall. There was a set of four pictures for each of the bairns, one for each year Lottie had known them. She’d captured their likeness in monochrome pastels, assigning one of the primary colours, plus green, to each of them. He’d never consciously thought about what colour would represent each child best, but when he saw them now, the choice was so natural that he wanted to smack his forehead with his palm. The beautiful thing was that Lottie had experimented with the shade of the colours to capture the children’s default expression over the four years, and used it in the glazing of their busts too.

Evie was a radiant sunflower yellow, while Lucy shifted from a glacier-like blue to a warmer cornflower. Ewan’s bright green, too, mellowed with age into something akin to bottle green, and Paul’s poppy red was as steadily radiant as Evie’s sunflower. 

The colours of the pastels were slightly translucent, giving them a feeling of levity, and with lots of experimenting Lottie had found the matching shade for the glaze on the busts, somehow managing to get the colours to look like soft pastels or watercolours.

“Lottie,” he gasped, picking up one of the glazed shards from the box beneath Ewan’s set of pictures. He ran the pad of his thumb over the smooth glazing before he read the small tag attached to it. The cryptic note of letters and numbers on it didn’t tell him much but he understood that it must be the mixing ratio for the glaze.

“ _Ja?_ ” she replied, her voice soft as she understood how much her work had touched him.

“You’ve… you’ve captured their grief and their healing,” he said. “This is Ewan when you first met. Gosh, I had no idea how angry he was.” In the next picture, Ewan’s tense face had softened a little, but the emotion in his eyes was nothing but raw loneliness, despite the adoption. The next drawing captured a massive leap. For the first time, Ewan looked like a boy his age should look. If not exactly happy, then at least content. The happiness only came in the last portrait, also done all in green but the mellow bottle shade, along with a sense of the mischievous boy he’d been before Rita’s death.

“These are extraordinary,” he said, as he moved on to the other children. “You’ve… they’re so themselves in these. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“Like them? They’re bloody fantastic! Thank you, Lottie, so much. I… I couldn’t ever have captured them this way with my camera.”

“That’s not true, Dave,” she protested. “You—l”

Whatever she wanted to say was drowned out by an explosion that silenced the world around them for a beat before it was replaced by a ringing in his ears and the piercing wail of an alarm.*

Dave clenched his arse in terror. Lottie’s fingers dug into his arm, an expression of sheer panic slackening her face. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he yelled. “All of you! Out!”

He grabbed Lottie’s arm, dragging her towards the nearest exit. She resisted only after a few meters. “No! My work! The children!” Her voice sounded small over the din of chaos in the exhibition hall but still it made him hesitate for a few beats. This was the work of months, all her pride, and his children. The idea of leaving them behind in this emergency made him want to throw up, to protect even their likeness, but the rational part of his mind kicked in. 

There had been an explosion, and there probably was a fire with all the highly flammable chemicals that were kept in a place like this a risk of further explosion. There was no time to stop and try to rescue her work. 

Their lives were more important, and it wasn’t like the bairns would come to any physical harm if their pictures were damaged.

Still.

“Dave! It’s my degree show, I can’t just…” she protested, panic and reluctance tearing her voice apart. He strengthened his grip around her fingers.

“Leave it!” he yelled back. “Don’t take anything, you hear me? Everyone, just get out!”

Somehow they managed to make their way to the exit. When the first person to get to the door pulled it open he saw the orange glow through the frosted art deco pane in the door. It was too late for a warning.

He hid his face from the heat and the acrid smoke in the crook of his elbow as he yanked his free arm up, at the same time tightening his grip around Lottie’s hand.

–

Summary: There's an explosion caused by the faulty projector. Aware of the highly flammable materials in the building, Dave urges the students to evacuate the building. They reluctantly leave their work behind. Their chosen escape routes is blocked, though.


	5. Chapter 5

She could smell the camels before she saw them. After their afternoon rest they were given instructions to put on long trousers, bring their shades, a camera and don their veils. Sheik Nadir took them out for a camel ride into the desert sunset before a late dinner. Nothing, Rose thought, could be more romantic, she just wished Dave were with her to enjoy it instead of Dominic. Of course, Sheik Nadir didn’t know that Dominic and she were not really married, and they had every intention of keeping it that way. At least they were each given their own mount.

Rose wrinkled her nose as the stink of the camels assaulted her senses. She'd never smelled anything so revolting; it was the warmth of the animals that made the smell so alive, rather than something that had crawled under a piece of furniture to die there. Rose almost gagged as they stepped closer to the group of animals, and she was glad she had the veil to press to her mouth and nose. It was freshly laundered so she could focus on the Highland Spring scent advertised on the bottle.

“You can take lovely pictures of the sunset,” Sheik Nadir said. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

“No, it’s just… their smell needs some getting used to.”

The Sheik laughed. “Yes, I can see that. Imagine what it’s like for some of us to go to the city. I suppose it’s just a matter of perspective.”

“I’ve never ridden a camel before.” She looked at the animals resting in the dust, their long legs folded up beneath them, a bored look of disdain on their faces. They didn’t even look up when they approached.

“Not to worry. Just hold on tight and lean backwards when she rises, and you’ll be perfectly safe,” Sheik Nadir said.

“We’re going to ride on these?” Aquiouk squeaked when he realised what was going on. They were each assigned an animal decked with colourful blankets piled over the wooden saddle, whose front pommel would be the only thing offering them purchase. Rose was curious as to what the men would do since there were no stirrups and the pommel looked uncomfortable.

“Yes, we are. It’s a popular pastime for tourists in a desert country,” Rose said. “You’re not allergic?”

“We wouldn’t know. These camels,” Semimnan said, trying out the strange word like an exotic meat, “do look odd.”

Dominic laughed. “That they do. But they’re perfectly designed for life in the desert.”

“Some of your animals do look like they were designed by a god with a sense of humour. Or no sense of aesthetics,” Aquiouk replied. “Come on, Semimnan, this is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

Before Rose knew it, one of the Bedouin had his hands on her hip and the inside of her thigh and was lifting her onto the saddle that was about four feet off the ground. She slumped into the saddle like a rag doll because there was no way, at least none she knew of, to break the impact. She winced when the hard wooden ridges dug into the insides of her thighs.

Chancing a glance at the men, she saw that they weren’t faring much better, much to the amusement of the Bedouin, and they explained to her that once the animals were standing, they could fold one leg up and tuck it between themselves and the pommel, as if they were crossing their legs. Rose translated this for the others, but she doubted she’d do it because it would be hard enough to stay up there as it was.

“The saddles are designed in a way that we can use them as stools to sit on when they’re not on the camel’s back. You’ll be comfortable,” Sheik Nadir said, reading the way her eyebrows knit together correctly.

“I’m sure that the children would love this,” she said.

“You already are a mother? Where are they, and how many children have you got? You should have said, we’d have loved to welcome them too,” the Sheik replied.

Rose wasn’t sure what part of his speech to latch on to. That he'd said _already_ caught her off guard a little, which was quickly followed by the realisation that she'd said it out loud and been overheard. She’d have to tell Dominic as soon as possible so there wouldn’t be any awkward moments if someone asked him about the children.

“They have to go to school, but it’s a most generous offer, Sheik. Thank you," she said. Nadir smiled and left her with a pat to the camel’s pale, stinking coat. It was surprising how quickly she’d got used to the smell. Which was good because that made the excursion bearable.

 _Why did he say_ already? she wondered, her gaze following the Sheik as he went to his own camel.

“ _Yalla!_ ” the camel handler cried out, and Rose remembered to cling to the pommel. Against instinct, she leaned back as her mount rose to its front legs. Of course, that made getting up easier for the animal. She then leaned forward as it then rose to its hind legs.

After the first few meters of their journey Rose decided she'd never been more uncomfortable when travelling. Or more spectacularly. The edges of the seat bit into her thighs, regardless of the piles of colourful padding, and the rocking motion explained why the animals went by the monicker ship of the desert. _Can I get seasick in the desert?_

The rise was spectacular because she suddenly saw the world from six feet up, and she watched her shadow move over the rippled sand. She reached for her camera to capture it. Of course, it was a fairly touristy image, but she liked it anyway, and the bairns would never forgive her if she didn’t take that shot. She knew they’d also be furious if she told them that the Sheik would have loved to meet them. 

Eventually, when she’d got used to the motion of the camel, she turned around to look at the others. Sheik Nadir was catching up with her, as was Dominic. Both of them had draped their right leg over the saddle. They had twisted a little sideways, and Rose noticed that they had braced themselves between the pommels. It did look safe.

“Here, let me help you, Mrs Burton,” Sheik Nadir said, holding his nut-brown hand out for her. She took it, anchoring herself to him for the moments it took to wedge her leg between herself and the pommel. She was more comfortable almost instantly, but she also felt much more securely seated. It wasn’t as if these nonchalant animals would break into a gallop any time soon.

“I’ll leave you now so you can enjoy the sunset with your husband,” her host said, steering his animal away from her to make room for Dominic.

Of course, as an appreciative gesture of the romantic notion, Dominic took her hand as their camels walked side by side. 

“We have children,” she blurted.

“We what?”

“Sorry, it slipped out before I could stop myself.”

“Tell me what you said,” he said.

“Let’s just use mine. Dave will be furious, but I can see Nadir asking to see their picture, and I don’t happen to have any pics of random kids on my phone,” she said.

“Why didn't we think to plan for something like this?”

She pressed her lips together, sending him an apologetic glance.

“Never mind that now,” Dominic said. He knew them fairly well, and since Rose did all the talking anyway, there wasn’t much of a danger of getting the facts wrong. “Let’s just enjoy this.”

“It is lovely, isn’t it? Despite the stink,” she said.

“I don’t even smell it any more, but I’m afraid the smell will cling to us until the next time we can shower,” he said. “But at least we’ll have got used to it, so we won't smell it anymore.”

“Funny,” Rose mused. “I don’t remember the stink from last time.”

“We didn’t get near any camels then,” he reasoned.

“Hm,” she agreed, but wasn’t entirely convinced.

Just like last time they had ventured into the desert, the air was alive with the soft whisper of grains of sand chafing against each other as a light breeze brushed over them. She could also feel the movement of the air in her veil. She took off her glasses so she could take a quick photo with her camera. Although Dave had told her that it wasn’t necessary to snap pictures without her shades, she always felt she could see better without them. Of course, for Nadir’s benefit, she also took a photo of Dominic.

He looked gorgeous in his indigo headscarf, and his eyes were twinkling at her as he, too, had taken off his glasses. The deep colour of the material made his blue eyes look darker than they really were, and she zoomed in on them. Tiny wrinkles radiated from their corners, advertising his warm and cheerful disposition. _Why is a man like him single (again)?_

His separation from Maggie was a massive step forward. Maybe she ought to tell him that. No one at Torchwood had disguised their disdain for Maggie. She’d only ever seen the National Heritage Trust and Vitex side of it, and as far as she was concerned, Dominic had given up work as a ‘proper’ doctor in favour of research and general health consultant to Vitex and the wellness magazine of another of its subsidiary companies. These jobs didn’t warrant the crazy working hours all of them had been keeping lately, well, over the past several months really. Sometimes she wondered how Dave and the children managed with her frequent absences.

It really was high time for the family holiday they’d discussed yesterday. She couldn’t wait to spend some time with all of them, and to dedicate two days to each of the bairns alone. Dave still got his Sunday and Wednesday afternoons, despite everything. It was more than a little unfair that the bairns should go without that kind of special attention. Maybe it was time to rethink her schedule.

She loved her work, but the last few weeks had been insane.

“Penny for them?” Dominic’s voice rumbled from beside her. He wasn’t wearing his shades any more. The sunset painted his skin a gorgeous gold, and made his eyes even more luminous. When he took her hand this time it wasn’t just for show. He really anchored her in the here and now.

They had one of the most beautiful natural events before them, and she wasn’t appreciating it. What had happened to her? When she’d traveled with the Doctor, she’d absorbed the beauty of the places they went. Dave had taught her, as she’d asked him for some basic lessons in photography, to look at the world with open eyes, discovering the unusual and extraordinary. Spot the abandoned, single shoes at the kerb, the play of light on surfaces, and the reflections in puddles after a shower of rain. And still she had the feeling she wasn’t really _looking._

“I think I might be having an early onset midlife crisis,” she said.

He laughed. “You’re far too young for that. But I know the feeling. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Now you’re lying.”

She sighed, giving his fingers a squeeze. 

“You and Dave… You’re all right?”

“Oh yes. Gosh, Dominic, yes we are. Never been more in love,” she said, beaming. “Sorry.”

He winked at her. “Don’t apologise. I envy you and Dave for what you have, but I’m happy for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Never. Thanks. It’s just… Why has no one ever stopped long enough to see what a gem you are?”

“Gem?” he laughed.

“For a man.”

“Oi!”

“Seriously, though. Why?”

He sighed. “If only I knew. I’d probably not be single.”

“You deserve someone great.”

“I just want a woman who loves me for who I am. Someone who doesn’t only need my manly shoulder to lean on, but someone who also offers theirs when I need one. Someone I connect with, emotionally and intellectually. Sometimes I wonder if that’s asking too much.”

“You’re a very clever man,” Rose said in a mock-warning tone.

“And you think there are no clever women out there? You’re doing your sex a disservice here, Mrs T—Burton.”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m insulting you,” she said.

“What?” he squeaked.

They hadn’t noticed their camels had stopped, and that the sun was but a sliver of dark red on the horizon. The air was alive around them, with the song of sand and the shimmer of the shadows lengthening. Rose whipped out her phone to take another picture. It was a good job that Dave had taught the bairns and her to make the most of their phone camera. With any luck, he’d see the photos of this trip as soon as he turned his computer on in the morning. 

Maybe they should all go next time. All of them. Dave could be… an uncle. She scoffed inwardly. He definitely wouldn’t go with that. Besides, the bairns would probably address him as Dad anyway, bless them. There was no way that Dave was going to stay at home for such an outing.

“Rose?”

“Sorry, I was miles away.”

He chuckled. “So I’ve noticed. Sheik Nadir wants to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she said, getting even hotter under her veil than she already was.

“This is a perfect moment for the young lovers,” Sheik Nadir said. He’d reined in his camel to be by her side. “We’ll get off the camels here for a little while to enjoy the sunset, yes?”

Rose nodded, hoping that her eyes communicated her delight at the situation. 

Getting off the camel was as awkward as was getting on it, but somehow she survived the camel settling on its stomach and dismounting it. She felt like she was walking bow-legged, despite the more comfortable sitting position she’d assumed with Nadir’s help.

“Now kiss!” he instructed them, as they stood facing the sunset.

“Oh, I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Rose said. She couldn’t kiss Dominic!

“It’s a desert wedding. Of course it is,” Nadir insisted.

Dominic took a deep breath, removing the protective layer of fabric from the lower half of his face. His expression communicated what Rose was thinking. Unless they wanted to offend the Bedouin they had no choice. “We only renew our vows on our anniversary,” Dominic said, turning to Nadir.

The nobleman nodded and made an inviting gesture. “Of course. Be my guest to conduct whatever ceremony you deem appropriate.”

“Thank you,” Rose mouthed as they moved away from the others and they stood facing each other.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he whispered. “I get to kiss the girl after all. Just a peck of lips on lips. Okay?”

Rose stared at him, her heart racing. Dave was all she could see, but she supposed that for the sake of their cover, she’d have to indulge both Dominic and the Bedouin. “Okay.”

“I was just kidding, Rose. This is as awkward for me as it is for you. There’s nothing to this kiss but embarrassment and the wish we were each kissing someone else,” he whispered, taking both her hands.

“When you press me to your heart/I'm in a world apart/A world where roses bloom,” he sang softly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling. It was a generic enough declaration of love for her to be acceptable. Dominic had always had a soft spot for her, but they both knew that it was just a game between them, without any serious undercurrents. 

They kissed chastely for a few endless moments, for the sake of their charade. She could feel his heart wasn’t in it because every fibre of his body was tense with discomfort. Which was why it felt safe to run her hand up his arms, also for the sake of the show. 

“Feeling better?” she quipped as they finally separated.

“Yeah. Um. Do you think they bought it?”

Applause and ululations were his answer.

He shrugged sheepishly. “I think I’ll have to explain quite a few things to your husband when we get home,” he said.

“I suppose so,” she grinned, tucking her tongue into the corner of her mouth. It was a smile she usually reserved for Dave alone, and she felt guilty almost instantaneously.

“Wonderful!” Nadir congratulated them. “Look!” He held out his phone for them to see the photo of them kissing in the sunset in the desert.

Without needing to agree, both of them deleted the photo the first chance they got, hoping that Nadir wouldn’t post this photo anywhere.

“It’s not too bad,” Dominic answered later, in private. “It’s just our silhouettes. No one will be able to tell.”

“But I _know_!”

“You girls,” he mock-scoffed. “Seriously, how do you survive, thinking as much as you do?”

Rose stared at him, then she smiled. He was just kidding, but she’d taken the question seriously at first. She supposed that came with _growing up_ , having a family of her own to protect. _Will I ever feel like a proper grown-up?_ Most of the time she felt like a big girl rather than an adult. The bairns were keeping her young, despite all the responsibilities she was shouldering as a mother-figure and the director of Torchwood Glasgow.

“It’s time to head back,” Nadir announced, breaking into their truly private moment. “We don’t want to waste more of what little light is left.”

“Of course,” Rose said, and she told the others to get ready to mount their camels once more for the return trip.

When she got into her seat, she didn’t even feel the insides of her thighs any more. Dave was going to be anything but pleased about it on Wednesday.

The trip back to the village went, as all return trips did, much faster, and before she knew it, she was stumbling off the camel’s back. Her knees were soft and wobbly, like Amy’s. In fact, her whole body was a little shaky, and she felt as if in her mind she was moving faster than her body.

“I feel… dizzy,” she managed to whisper as her Bedouin guide offered her a hand to stabilise her.

“It’s normal after a ride on camelback if you’re not used to it, _madaam,_ ” _her_ Bedouin said.

Her head was beginning to swim too, and she felt worse than seasick: she felt as if she were so deep under water that she’d lost her orientation. It wasn’t extremely unpleasant. The feeling of weightlessness relieved her of the embarrassing feeling of wobbly knees, and she felt safe. The Bedouin’s friendly smile was the last thing she saw before she drifted further down towards the bottom of the sea and all signs of life on the surface faded, including the light.

The inky blackness of the deep sea was welcoming, and she really adored the floating. It was so completely different from the ride in the ship of the desert, so pleasant, so… much like Dave’s arms and his kisses.

Better even.

Dave…


	6. Chapter 6

“Your blood pressure plummeted,” Dominic told Rose as he passed her a bottle of water, which was followed by some strong, sweet tea which Nadir had sent. “How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath and then a long drink. “Much better, thanks. I’m sorry if I embarrassed our party.” He’d carried her back to their tent, several worried tribesmen and the Sheeryans in their wake. No one tried to stop him, though. As far as the Bedouin knew he was her husband, and Aquiouk and Semimnan were concerned, but didn't know how to help. He’d been worrying about Rose for a while, but she’d brushed off each of his attempts to examine her. He had debated grounding her unless she allowed him to do his job, and he cursed himself for letting her get away with it. But no more. In the future, he’d put his foot down in situations like this, with Mickey’s and Jake’s help if needs be. 

“The Sheik is just as worried about you as we are,” he said with a smile. “You should drink more of the tea.” He passed her another of the small, richly painted glasses and picked one up for himself. It was his third.

“I was afraid something like this was going to happen,” she said in between sips of the warm tea.

“Is there something I should know?” he asked, affecting his stern but kindly doctor voice. He hadn’t used it in ages and it now sounded out of place, almost fake. No one, least of all Torchwood Glasgow’s Director, was impressed by it.

Rose shook her head. “I’m not keeping anything from you, Dom. It’s just, I’ve been so tired lately.”

He acknowledged her answer with a gesture. That really wasn’t news. He was tired too. Besides, Rose had a different demeanor when she was trying to appear brave. His ability to see through people’s facades had distinguished him from the rest of his classmates at school, and it had served him well ever since. The Torchwood crew's training made them particularly difficult to get a handle on, but he'd eventually sussed them all out and knew each of them pretty well now.

“I’d like to run a full exam first thing when we get back. Well, first thing Thursday morning. We do need our beauty sleep after all, don’t we?”

She smiled at him. “Thank you. You’re a star.”

“Got to earn my keep.”

“After all these years?”

He shrugged. Sometimes he felt that way. Like now, when he was stumped. “We should get some food and put our hosts at ease. They’ve been asking, you know. Please tell Nadir that it’s your fault, yeah?”

“I'm sure that it is,” she said, putting down her empty glass and holding out her hand for him. He pulled her up and she draped her hijab over her head.

The men stood when she approached, none of them meeting her eye directly. It was amazing how willing they were to accommodate the female interpreter. If Rose had been seriously ill, their entire mission would have been for naught. Dominic kept a close eye on her, and whispered that she should only to eat the things she found appetising. He was fairly sure that the Bedouin would be forgiving.

“We’ve just been discussing the volcano,” Sheik Nadir informed them, gesturing to the food laid out in front of them. Rose was the only woman in the party, and the men waited respectfully until she’d helped herself to some of the vegetarian rice dish before they loaded their own plates.

He frowned, wondering how they could be discussing this with Rose away, but he remembered the Sheeryan translator and hoped that their guests were using it discreetly, without showing too much sudden grasp of the language. Then he remembered Aquiouk’s concern about seismic activity. “What volcano?” he asked.

“The one I mentioned on the plane,” Aquiouk reminded him. “The one in Iceland.”

Dominic wanted to tell him that Iceland had several volcanoes, when Rose joined the conversation on her own behalf. “Eyjafjallajökull?”

“The very same,” Nadir confirmed.

“It’s been active for a while. Has it finally erupted?”

“So it has,” Nadir said. “I find volcanoes fascinating, don’t you? The Rub’ al Khali is a special place, because it’s my home, yes? But other countries have mountains spouting fire or deserts made of ice.”

“True,” Dominic agreed. He picked up some food with his fingers. He was getting more adept to it than he cared to admit. And while at first he’d thought that lukewarm food wasn’t his cup of tea, he saw the wisdom behind it now. It was hot enough already, still, despite the heat of the day dying away along with its light.

“I’ve read about Pompeii,” Nadir said. “Such a fascinating tragedy. But you know, we too have buried cities. Out there, in the sands.”

“Have any of them ever been found or excavated?” Semimnan asked.

“Not that I know of. You see, my friend, I prefer the mystery. It engages the imagination, yes? Gives us something to live for. What I’ve seen of modern life is too many questions answered, too many people despairing over that fact.”

Nadir had a point.

“So tell, me, Mrs Burton,” their host continued. “I understand congratulations are in order?”

Dominic nearly dropped his plate at the Sheik’s words, but Rose seemed as surprised by the sudden twist of events as he was.

“I’m afraid I don't quite follow?” she asked.

“My mother. She says you’re expecting. You should have told me, Mrs Burton. The trip into the desert was far too taxing for you,” Nadir continued, still oblivious to both their surprise.

“I’m… I’m not pregnant,” she said.

“Oh but my mother is quite certain, and she’s never wrong. She can see it in your face,” Nadir said. “But clearly, I’m embarrassing you. Allow me to extend my felicitations to both of you, and then I’ll speak of it no more. You must be so proud.” That last bit was directed at Dominic, and he was quick enough to react appropriately — happily stunned.

Semimnan and Aquiouk looked at them in surprise, clearly wanting to ask her just as many questions, but Rose ducked her head, picking up her food far more studiously than before.

Of course.

_That explains everything._

Back in their tent, Dominic had to ask. As her doctor. “Is there a chance Nadir’s mother is right?”

Rose dropped her hands to her stomach. “We’ve been trying, you know that. But I’m not sure,” she said, looking down at her flat abdomen. “Shouldn’t I be gaining weight?”

“Weight loss at this stage isn’t unheard of,” he said.

“I am a little late. But I thought it was due to the stress.”

“Well, we’ll do a test first thing Thursday morning. Are you well enough to go through with this?”

She nodded. “I’ll take it easy. That was the plan for this outing anyway. Arranging this trade shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve done it before and Nadir and our Sheeryan friends know they can trust each other.”

“Does Dave know?”

“What? No. I wasn’t… Oh dear, Dominic. What if I _am_ pregnant?” she asked, her eyes going wide.

“Well, the usual result of this is a baby in a few months’ time.”

She relaxed into the cushions in their sitting area. “I… We didn’t think we’d ever have a baby. I mean… what with the Void… What if it’s not healthy?”

He scooted over to her for a hug. “We’ll find out soon enough, yeah? And if things are too bad, Mother Nature will take care of things.”

The light in her eyes flashed lightning and thunder at his blunt words, but there wasn’t any other way of putting it. He thought her reaction was a good sign because it meant she was getting used to the idea of carrying a child. If it was true, it was fantastic news for the Tilers. Kitty’s birth, while delighting her, had not been easy for Rose. But of course she loved her little half-sister to bits. 

Rose was quiet for a while and he let go of her. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I’m sorry you have to share this with me first instead of with Dave.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re my doctor. You’d always have been the first to know. Dave… I’m not sure how he’d take the disappointment.”

“Hey,” he said, brushing a loose lock of hair from her cheek. “He’s a father of five already. I don’t thin—”

“But it’d be _ours_ , Dom. Dave’s and mine.”

He sighed. “True.”

The next morning, they conducted their business faster than anticipated, and when word got through that there might be air travel problems, they finished extra fast. “Not very romantic now, our fire-breathing mountains,” Rose said to Nadir as they climbed into the Jeep.”

“I wish you a swift and safe journey, my friends. It was a great honour and pleasure having you. And next time, you bring all of your children, yes?”

Dominic managed a smile, remembering his role just as Nadir closed the car door and hit it to signal to the driver that they could set off.

After a bumpy ride on the dusty track they went straight to the airport instead of the hotel as planned. If there really were delays in air travel, the sooner they knew about them the better, and maybe they wouldn’t have to wait as long.

“How can a little mountain like that cause so much disruption? All the way down here?” Aquiouk wondered as they waited at the check-in desk, along with all the other travellers, businessmen and tourists alike.

“It’s not about here,” Rose said. “It’s about the airspace back home. Apparently, the dust and ash from the eruption are so high in the atmosphere that radar won’t work.”

“I don’t like this,” Semimnan said.

“Neither do I,” Dominic reassured him. “But we might be lucky yet.”

Only they weren’t. Their flight was cancelled, and they were told to return the next morning. Luckily, they still had their rooms at the hotel, so they headed there after the flight was cancelled. While Rose was soaking in the tub, he went to buy a pregnancy test. He supposed he was the only male to do so in this male-dominated culture, but he couldn’t care less. After all, he was a doctor, and if anyone asked, he could show his internationally recognised badge.

When he returned to the hotel room with the test in a discreet paper bag, it took Rose a while to answer his knock on the door. He knew at once that something was wrong, and his first thought was that Mother Nature had indeed taken care of things. Rose was pale and shivering.

“There’s been a fire,” she whispered, blocking his way.

He gently shoved her aside and closed the door behind himself. “Where?”

“The Glasgow School of Art.” Her voice was flat and almost disembodied. “Dave and Lottie are there to put on her degree show.”

-:-

The soft bubbling hiss and whoosh of air entering and leaving his lungs consumed all of his attention. Its rhythm was preferable to the dull ache that poured, if not fire, then at least something hot and uncomfortable into his veins, and thence into his heart and brain. Opening his eyes was an effort, but he was aware of where he was anyway. They’d smeared something cool and viscous, something fragrant on his upper lip. But he could smell the sweet scent of burning flesh that underlay it. And, very faintly, the warm air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and bland detergent.

_Hospital._

Something had gone terribly wrong.

“Rose?”

“Dad?”

He attempted a smile. Something poked him in the nose. “Lucy, sweetheart.” He tried to return the grip she had on his hand. “How bad is it?”

“Rose is stuck in Riyadh, Dad. Some volcano erupted and… and the cloud of ash has stopped air travel,” Lucy whispered. She had a tight rein on her voice, and he knew that the line was close to snapping.

Dave forced his eyes open. If she could keep her feelings in check, so could he. She swam into focus eventually, an orange face against a dark backdrop. _Is it so late?_ He wanted to be strong, to deflect attention from Rose’s absence to his injuries. But his disappointment was stronger. “Oh,” he sighed.

“I gather they’re safe, though. They’d planned to stay the night in a hotel anyway, to… to take the strain off things.”

He nodded. The bairns had insisted that, whenever possible, Rose leave as detailed an itinerary as she could when she travelled for business. And Rose had been so tired lately. Still, he couldn’t help being worried and disappointed. He wanted no one so dearly by his side now than Rose. Or not. Seeing him like this would break her heart. In her book, she was the only one with the prerogative to get injured.

“Is this Torchwood?” he asked, not recognising the shadows of his room.

Lucy shook her head. “It’s the Old Royal. They have a good Burn Ward, though.”

He swallowed painfully as his parched throat protested. “Can I… have some ice chips?”

“Sure,” she said, glad that he’d given her a chore other than breaking the news to him that they were on their own. _A volcano? Really? Which one?_ He opened his mouth to receive one of the small pieces of frozen water Lucy was holding to his lips. His sucking on the ice plunged the room into darkness as he closed his eyes at the simple pleasure. He did enjoy his daughter’s caressing his hand, though.

When the ice chips were gone, he opened his eyes. They travelled into the immediate proximity of the light. He was hooked up to an infusion, probably one to replenish his bodily fluids. Lucy had mentioned the Burn Ward, after all. He closed his eyes. When he’d asked how bad it was, really, that was what he’d meant. _How badly am I burnt?_

“Where are the bairns?”

“Nana is looking after them,” she said.

That was a relief. “What about Donna? Why am I not at the Infirmary?” Having either Donna or Dominic looking after him would have him feel more at ease. Dominic was travelling with Rose. Which was good, too. He’d take care of her. _She’s been so tired lately._

“She’s stuck on the continent,” Lucy said. “There was some conference in Ratisbon.”

He closed his eyes to gather courage for his first question. “How bad is it?”

Lucy didn’t answer straight away, but when she did he voice was firm. “Some first and second degree burns to your right arm and left chest. Some damage from smoke inhalation. Hence the cannula.”

He asked for another chip of ice. “What about Lottie?”

“She’s in the next room with some mild smoke damage too,” Lucy said. “Dad, do you know what happened?”

“There was… I’m not sure. A loud bang.”

“A projector exploded.”

He chuckled. It _hurt_. “Wretched thing had been giving that boy trouble for a while. What about… the show?”

Her pause didn’t bode well. “I have no idea.”

“Luce?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Go home. Tell the wee ones I’m all right, yeah? Get some rest.”

“Dad—”

“Please.”

She sighed and squeezed his hand. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark.”

She chuckled.

“Should I call Jackie?”

He groaned. “Don’t you dare. She won’t rest until I’ve got the world’s best burn specialist debriding me.”

“Dad!” she cried.

“Call Grandpa, though. He’ll want to know. But tell him it’s okay.” He took a deep breath. There was a little pain and the sensation that he couldn't fill his lungs as much as he wanted to. Taking a really deep breath of Highland air would be brilliant right now. “And please don’t tell Rose how bad it is until she’s back home, aye?”

“I love you, Dad.”

He smiled. It hurt. Too. Bloody hell. “Love you more.”

His eyelids had fluttered shut a while ago, so when she kissed his cheek the sensation was unexpected, but welcome.

His memory of anything after opening the door to the large studio was blurred at best. A wave of smoke and fire had pushed them back into the room with a gasp and a tumble. Panic had broken out then, despite the fact that there was an exit at the far end of the long room. With any luck, it wouldn’t be blocked. It shouldn’t have been, because they’d all run in the direction of the faulty projector at first, when they should have been going the other way.

_Stupid._

_Oh well. Lottie was safe._

He closed his eyes and relaxed as his hand was left empty.

_Rose._

-:-

He woke with a gasp, filling his lungs with a deep gulp of air. It hurt, but not as badly as it had earlier, releasing it was all right. He breathed in and out consciously for a few times before he mustered the strength to open his eyes.

He was still in hospital. Grey early morning light was starting to chase away the dark from the corners. The bag of transparent liquid bulged above him, and the hiss and bubble of the… breathing things, cannula, whatever, was what had soothed him into sleep in the night.

But.

The pain.

It drove tears to his eyes. 

He took another deep breath.

If Rose was in Arabia, and he in hospital… who was taking care of Evie, Ewan and Paul?

His eyes focused on the white expanse of the ceiling. _Why is Rose stuck in Arabia? Why isn’t she here?_

His fingers curled around empty air and tears trickled from the corners of his eyes into his hair, tickling him, and he was as powerless to do anything about them as he was about grabbing at thin air.

He _hurt._


	7. Chapter 7

Dominic deposited the paper bag on the narrow table underneath the mirror and pulled her into a tight, wordless hug. She clung to him, glad for his closeness. He anchored her in the present and enabled her to lose herself in his comfort for a moment before taking a step back. This was clearly a situation to deal with for which Director Tyler was best suited. Leave it to her to remain cool and proceed step-by-step.

Stepping out of his embrace, she drew herself up to her full height. Dominic didn't quite leave her personal space entirely and he looked down at her with furrowed brow. He was looking at her as a friend.

“Will you help me find out what happened?” she asked.

“Of course. Let’s check the news first. A fire like that should warrant a mention or two on the news,” he said.

“While we wait we can check email and the internet.”

“If we can get it to work,” he reminded her. “The connection was a bit wonky.” He took a deep breath and gestured at the paper bag on the table. “So… this…”

“I’ll take care of it later. When I know.”

They set to work, turning the volume of the telly down to the point where the newsman’s voice was just barely audible. The live ticker rolling across the bottom of the screen announced a fire and casualties, and she had to sit down when she read it. No one had called her. Surely, if something had happened to Dave, they’d have called her by now, wouldn’t they?

Her default ring tone startled a soft gasp out of her. It sounded four more times before she found it in the unfamiliar room. She really should make a rule of putting it on her bedside table. Her fingers were trembling as she tapped the screen to accept the call.

“Rose? It’s Murray.”

“No,” she whispered, staggering backwards in search of the edge of her bed; she found Dominic’s guiding arm instead.

“Are ye still there, dearie?” Murray asked.

It didn’t bode well if Dave's dad called.

“Yeah,” she croaked, then, more firmly, “yes, I am. Tell me, Murray.”

“You know?”

“It’s all over the news. Even here. There were casualties. In the fire.” She was powerless to resist the urge to clarify. Somehow, absurdly, she thought of all the films she’d seen in which people had failed to communicate clearly enough which had led to disastrous misunderstandings. Or funny ones, but the former were closer to the front of her mind right now.

“Dave’s all right, Rose. Some lung damage from the smoke, and some burns.”

She thought of the landscape of her own back. “How bad are they? Where?”

“Right arm and chest, first and second degree. The second degree ones apparently are barely that, and in comparatively good spots for burns of that kind,” Murray said.

She exhaled, cupping her forehead. Dominic was kneeling on the stone floor before her, his eyes fixed on her, cataloguing her every reaction. “Thank you.”

“I’d say it’s my pleasure,” Murray continued. It was great to hear his soft Scottish burr. “It’s not too late for me to call you where you are, is it?”

“Never mind that, Murray. I’m glad that you called at all. This was hours ago,” she said, unable to hide her anger at not being informed immediately. “What about Lottie?”

“Just some smoke inhalation. They’re jut keeping her here overnight,” Murray replied. She reached for Dominic’s hand. The news was good, but she needed some support anyway. His presence would make it easier for her to stay calm and strong. The situation was considerably more complicated than it might have been when the the volcano and her baby were factored in.

_Her baby._

Dominic started to rub the back of her hand with his thumb.

She blinked. “That’s good. Where are you, Murray?”

“I’m just outside Dave’s room, treating myself to awful hospital tea. You’d think that here of all places they’d offer you the good stuff.”

“It is good at the Priory,” she couldn’t help saying, biting down on her lower lip. Dominic frowned at her again.

“The Priory?” Murray asked.

“It’s… Dominic’s here with me, on a mission, and I believe Donna is stuck in Germany? Because of the ash in the atmosphere?”

“No, she was on the last flight out to London. I believe she caught a train? Or will, in the morning,” Murray said. “She made it out in time. But it seems you’re stuck?”

She exhaled. “Probably. They told us to come back tomorrow. Damn, we should have insisted on getting on that earlier flight.”

“Don’t fret, dearie. You cannae change it. Just take care of yourselves,” Murray said.

“How can I? Knowing that Dave needs me and… and I’m stuck here?” Desperation and guilt bubbled up inside her, and she fought to suppress them. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But she wanted to be with Dave and the bairns so badly right now.

“I know, dearie. The bairns are with Beattie for the night, Lucy and Lily excepted. They stayed at the house, just in case you returned.”

“Not gonna happen now,” she sighed, fisting her hair. The slight pain helped her focus her attention. “They’ll be glad to see you in the morning. You are going to stay at Number 5, aren’t you?”

“I’ll leave soonish. Dave’s drugged up to the gills with painkillers and sedatives. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, though.”

“Make sure the bairns eat properly. And— how are they?”

“They’re all right, considering the circumstances. They want him treated by Donna or Dominic.”

She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her lips, letting go of Dominic’s hand in the process.

“Rose.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry. Holly and I’ve got it.”

“Holly’s there too?” The news made Rose skip a beat.

“Aye. Wouldn’t let me go by myself,” Murray chuckled. “So you see, everything’s going to be fine. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”

She swallowed the tears that had started to pool in her eyes despite her best efforts. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Rose, listen to me. Dave’s fine. He’s going to be fine, aye? And I’m sure that the ban on air travel will be lifted soon so you can come back home,” he told her calmly.

She nodded, pressing her fingers to her mouth.

“You still there?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She dropped the phone into her lap. Both Murray and Holly were down in Glasgow to help out with the children. That explained why he’d called as late as he had. It must have been Anna who had decided that they not call her. She couldn’t help being a little disappointed at the fact that Lucy obeyed her.

The phone rang again. It was Lucy.

“Rose?”

“Murray just talked to me. How are you, sweetheart?” she asked, forcing back the tears. They made her voice sound pressed and tightened her throat.

“I want him in the Priory.”

“As soon as Donna’s back. She’ll arrange for it.”

“Are you all right?”

“Just… waiting to get on that flight,” Rose said. The idea of Dave in hospital, needing her, made it impossible to even consider relaxing. Her initial reaction to the ban on air travel had been one of frustration mixed with relief. If they were trapped here, they’d at least be able to make the most of some of the amenities their hotel offered and get some rest. The wait would also give her some time to think about the baby, and how she’d tell Dave about it. Him. Her. If she was, indeed, pregnant. But that plan had gone out the window the minute she’d turned on the telly in her room.

“Well, at least you’re trapped in a golden cage,” Lucy said.

Rose laughed, despite everything. “You could definitely call it that.”

“Anna forbade us to call you.”

She shook her head. “Call me whenever you want. Tell the wee ones too.”

After she rang off, Dominic approached her with something amber in a plain water glass. She hadn’t noticed him getting up and raiding the mini bar. “Should I?” she asked, accepting the glass anyway.

“Ignorance is bliss. For now. It won’t hurt the baby. Not this early on,” he said.

He’d poured himself two fingers too and he sat next to her on the bed. “Tell me everything.”

As she worked through the information Murray had given her she realised that the worst thing about Dave and Lottie in hospital was that she wasn’t there. Dominic reassured her that their injuries would heal, particularly if Dave were transferred to the Priory as soon as possible, so there was nothing to worry about.

“When he’s at the Priory you’ll be able to make a video call,” he added. It wouldn’t be the same, and he knew it. “So everything’s under control in Glasgow?”

She laughed as she realised that it was. “It appears so. Murray and Holly came down from Carlinburn to look after the bairns.”

“What about the Knowleses?”

Rose waved dismissively. “Anna told the wee ones in all seriousness that they’re not to call me. I suppose she thinks she’s doing me a favour by not bothering me on my oh-so-important business trip — her words, not mine — when really she still can’t get past what we have.”

Dominic shook his head. “Women.”

She laughed again. “They’re a mystery.”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“I am, thanks.” The truth was she wasn’t sure what she’d have done if Dominic hadn’t returned to her room that night to give her the pregnancy test right away instead of waiting.

“So, umm… I think I’d better go. I’ve put the test on the table in the hall, but I think you should wait to take it in the morning. Morning urine’s best,” he said.

After she reassured him that she’d be fine she closed and locked the door behind him. She’d have loved for him to stay, but that would be inappropriate. Besides, she needed some time to herself and she was sure that Dominic needed to get some rest too.

Switching off the telly, she checked the time. It had just gone one in the morning. She’d been up since six and the stressful day made itself known now that the rush of adrenaline finally wore off. Although she’d showered after first arriving at the hotel she felt she needed another wash; the desert had a way of sticking with her. Unless she had another quick one she knew she’d be unable to go to sleep, no matter how tired she was.

In the shower, she ran her hands over her body, and because the shower partition was glass she could see through to the massive mirror on the wall and she had a good look at herself. She was horribly thin, like she’d been back in the days of the Dimension Cannon. When she’d first met Dave.

There was absolutely no outward sign of a baby nestling in her abdomen. Not even her breasts looked different, although she had to admit that they did feel a little tender. Or was she just imagining it, now that she suspected that she might be pregnant? Dave and she had a wonderful love life so she never much paid attention to how sensitive her nipples were, or what colour the aureole were. They seemed to be as horny as teenagers, even after four years. It was amazing really. 

But why now? Why should she be pregnant after all this time? Dominic had repeatedly told her, as had the pregnancy manual she kept in her room, that stress was not conducive to conception. Their life had been nothing but stressful in the past few months. So how was that even possible?

It probably wasn’t. She turned away from the mirror after posing before it for a while, and finished scrubbing her skin. The damp heat in the small cubicle was relaxing and she moved with particular care to avoid slipping.

At least she’d be the only one to know that there wouldn’t be a baby. And Dominic, but he would never tell anyone. He’d likely be nearly as crushed but her non-news as she.

There wouldn’t be any worry about the bairns and how they’d deal with a new arrival in their family. While at first Dave and she had waited to try for a baby for the bairns to fully adjust to their new life, she’d never stopped worrying how Lucy and Ewan would cope with the news of a baby. They’d always been the most insecure of the children in the family, and Dave and she didn’t want them to think that they weren’t loved any more if they had a baby together.

That time had long since passed now. Lucy had blossomed in her relationship with Lily, and if anything, she’d adopted Rose as her female adult friend. Ewan had moved on too when he understood that Rose was as much an adopted mother to him like she was to Lucy and the others. Family wasn’t so much about blood for the Tilers as about love and connectedness.

-:-

In the morning she was woken by Mickey’s ring tone blaring into her unprepared ear from where she had left her mobile on the bedside table. She moved so automatically that she didn’t check the time. “Yeah?”

“Rose, it’s Mickey.”

“I know,” she groaned. _What time was it anyway?_

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, struggling to sit. Normally, she woke more quickly to the sound of her Torchwood phone. It was probably some forbiddingly early hour — she felt rested but also that another hour or two wouldn’t go amiss.

“We have a bit of a situation here,” Mickey said. “Nothing catastrophic, though. Not like… the School of Art.”

He had her at that. Whatever drowsiness remained evaporated at his words. Memories of the night before came flooding back, of Dave lying hurt and in pain in that hospital bed. “What is it?” she asked, her voice clipped.

“The seismic activity around the Icelandic volcano caused Rift activity. It’s spiking and we’re monitoring it closely now and expect stuff to come through any moment,” Mickey explained.

Rose relaxed. They could deal with that. If they were lucky it would be just flotsam and jetsam. Which was to be expected since Rift activity was triggered naturally rather than through some artificial meddling with devices; like Dimension Cannons or Vortex Manipulators or TARDISes. “And that’s why you call me at this hour?”

Mickey scoffed. “It’s eight in the morning, babe.”

She frowned. That would be ten in the morning for her. “What?” she squeaked. Check-out time was in half an hour, and she’d neither packed nor eaten, let alone used the bathroom. Including the pregnancy test. “We must have overslept.” Checking her phone she noticed that she hadn’t set the alarm last night. Why hadn’t Dominic woken her?

“No, you haven’t. All flights have been cancelled for today. You stay where you are,” he said gently.

“No,” she groaned. “That’s not funny, Mickey.”

“I’m not joking. The cloud of ash has grown so large and dense that all international and domestic flights have been cancelled in Europe and the Levant. That would include you. You’d not even get to Syracuse or Constantinople.”

Rose swore. “Tell me something I actually _want_ to hear.”

“Donna is back. She’s transferring Dave to the Infirmary, and Lottie if needs be. She brought breakfast for the lot of us,” he said cheerfully.

“Thank you,” she exhaled. “No access for the Knowleses.”

“What? Rose, you know I’m not much of a fan of your sister-in-law either, but we can’t do that,” he said.

“She’s not my sister-in-law.”

“Well, what should I call her?”

“That woman,” she said. Her imagination was too busy thinking of all the arrangements she’d have to make to run this case by proxy. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Mickey. She did, with her life. But she needed to be completely on top of things because ultimately all of the Torchwood Glasgow folks were her responsibility. More than that. They were her family. Apart from Mum and Pete they’d been the only ones she’d had before Dave and the bairns had rescued her.

“What about her husband?”

She cupped her forehead with her palm. Mickey was right. What was wrong with her? “All right. But lead them to the Infirmary through the garden access, and if anyone asks – again – , it’s a private Vitex institution. She’ll throw a fit at the injustice of it all but just ignore her. And if Dave wants her to leave she leaves.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rose could see him saluting. She relaxed. “Make sure to set up a video conference as soon as Dave’s up for it. Call me, any time. It’s not like we’ve got much to do here.”

“Oh, if I were you I’d make the most of it and get some rest. My gran would say that things like this happen for a reason.”

Rose thought of Dave and the pregnancy test, and Mickey would only assume the former when she said, “I don’t find that very comforting right now.”

There was a soft knock on her door and she ended the call to see who it was. It certainly wasn’t housekeeping because they’d be less patient — they had their job to do, after all. Dominic was standing there with a tentative smile and the door hanger in his hand. “Doctor’s orders.”

She laughed and stepped aside to let him enter. There was no need for anyone to see her in her cami and knickers in a country with a dress code, even if this was a hotel for international guests. If Rose had learned anything in her travels, it was to respect foreign cultures even if it was inconvenient or rubbed her the wrong way. “Good morning.”

“Is it? A good morning?” Replacing the door hanger to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted, he closed the door behind himself.

She told him about Mickey’s news.

“Sounds good. What about the test?”

“I haven’t had a chance to pee yet,” she said. “It’s kind of a busy morning considering that everyone and Mickey’s gran keep telling me to get some rest.”

“So you’re going to do it?”

She stared at him. “Of course I am.”

“Do you want me to stay? Outside the bathroom, of course?”

His offer threw her a little. She hadn’t had much time to think about what the test entailed. There really was no reason to. She was a married woman who wanted to have a baby, not a scared teenager who’d been unable to ask her idiot of a boyfriend to use a condom.

She’d been waiting for this day for years. The tingling inside her, pleasant this time, about peeing on a plastic stick for five seconds midstream, built suddenly. Her heart picked up on the idea and nourished the idea by beating faster and increasing the oxygen in her extremities. “I’d like that.”

“Want some help? With the instructions, obviously?” When she shook her head he flopped down on the sofa. 

She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. It was with some effort that she fumbled the unassuming plastic stick out of the box. It looked like the thermometer Mum had given her to take her temperature. After she scanned the instructions she sat down on the toilet and followed them.

Rose hated this. Finding out if she was finally pregnant shouldn’t happen by squatting over a plastic stick.

“Rose?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done.” She flushed and washed her hands. 

His muffled acknowledgement sounded sceptical. Rose decided to brush her teeth while she was waiting for the result to show up in the tiny window. Part of her didn’t want to know, wanted to procrastinate for as long as possible.

She was glad Dominic was sitting out there. When she was done she took the test into the room with her before she looked to see what it predicted for her future.


	8. Chapter 8

Dad was watching over him when he woke after the move from the Old Royal to the Priory. It had been surprisingly taxing, but knowing that he was now in safe hands, he had allowed himself to drift off when he could no longer fight it. They’d probably given him something to help him sleep. Either way, he felt a lot better when he finally awoke.

“Hello, m’boy. How are you feeling?” his dad stood from where he had been sitting in a comfy chair, reading a book.

“Thirsty.”

“I’ll get ye some ice,” his dad said.

“Is… Who’s here?”

“Holly and me.”

He smiled. “I know that. Which doctor?”

“Oh, Donna's not the only one?”

Dave nodded, the sandpaper in his mouth and throat trapping the words he tried to form. Thankfully, his dad noticed and turned with a quick gesture to get the ice chips.

Donna. He liked her no-nonsense approach, but it was going to be strange to see her as his doctor. They'd socialised quite a lot since Lucy and Lily had got together, and sometimes he forgot that if Rose was injured, it was Donna or Dominic who would take care of her. The idea that he might be on the receiving end of Torchwood’s medical facilities and expertise had never occurred to him.

The fact that he was at the Priory finally sunk in. He stared at the vaulted ceiling first, and then examined the rest of the room. Paul had been in one of the modernised IC units without any connection to the outside world. This room was light and airy, despite the vaults. It seemed as if the architect in charge of the Priory’s conversion had used part of the cloisters to create new rooms. Dave lay facing a glass wall with a view of the gardens. It was spring, and beautifully sunny out that he wished he could go outside to enjoy the warm sun and take some pictures. He’d never seen this side of the Priory.

“Hello again,” Donna said as she opened the door to his left. Unlike the wall behind him, with its ancient brickwork exposed, it was smooth and looked like a drywall construction. As far as hospital rooms went, he couldn’t complain.

“Hi,” he croaked. 

His dad followed in her wake, a bowl of ice in his hands. He put it on the mobile bedside stand and popped two of the chips into his mouth. Dave sucked on them greedily despite the cold, his tongue playing with them in an attempt to melt them faster.

“I’m not in any trouble, am I?” he asked, his voice raspy despite the ice. 

“Why would you say that?” Donna asked, picking up the chart from the foot end of the bed.

“Isn’t Torchwood about hopeless cases with alien infections?”

Donna looked up from the chart. “No, love, it’s not. Don’t you worry. From what I can see here yours is a bog-standard case of burns.”

“Oi! Nothing about my boy is bog-standard,” Dad said in a tone that left it to the listener if he was joking or not.

“Of course it isn’t, Mr Tiler. It’s just… We’re not just a hospital,” Donna said, hesitating. She didn’t know how much Dad knew about Torchwood so she was playing it safe.

“So bog-standard is something good?” Dad asked.

“Definitely. Besides, Dave’s injuries aren’t life-threatening. He’s here to get the best burn-treatment available on this planet,” Donna explained.

The conversation was taking on an almost entertaining character, and if he wasn’t careful he might even enjoy this. It was good to hear that he was here to receive the best care available. On the other hand, he resented the idea of being privileged like this. It didn’t seem fair.

“What about the other kids from the school?”

“Lottie was released this morning, and as far as I know she’s back at home recovering,” Donna said.

“Holly’s looking after her, if that’s all right. She’s agreed to take over from Beattie when the bairns get home from school this afternoon,” Dad added. “The others are much the same as you. Nothing more serious, thank goodness.”

 _And still I’m here, getting the royal treatment._ “What day is it, anyway?” he said, reaching for the bowl of ice chips. Donna cut him short by popping more of them into his mouth. He didn’t remember ever being so thirsty.

“It’s Wednesday.”

“Rose… I was supposed to pick her up at the airport today,” he said. _That, and we wanted to spend the day holed up at her place, making love._

His dad and Donna exchanged a glance so pregnant with meaning that he felt uncomfortable all over again. He was about to ask if something had happened to her when his dad said, “An Icelandic volcano has erupted and polluted the atmosphere with ash, making air travel dangerous. All flights to and within the north-eastern hemisphere have been cancelled.”

That included Glasgow and London. Rose and Dominic were stranded in Arabia. “Is she safe?”

“Yes. She and Dominic are in a nice hotel in Riyadh.”

He relaxed a little. This way, she’d get some rest, no matter how much he wanted her back. Well, Roseday was out of the question anyway, considering he was trapped here. Not trapped, but in a golden cage. He should be more grateful, really. “It’s just… I’ve been worried about her.”

“You and me both, love,” Donna said.

“Why’s that?”

“She’s been under a lot of stress lately,” Donna replied. “Now she’s forced to get some rest.”

“I don’t like the idea of forcing her to rest,” Dave groused, anger and resistance welling up inside him. “At least she suggested going on a family holiday in the summer. Like when we first met.”

“That was a lovely week,” Dad agreed.

Dave smiled. It was amazing how easily Rose and his dad had hit it off back then.

“That sounds good. Where are you going?”

Dave shook his head. “We didn't get that far. So, how long until she can return?”

Donna shook her head. “No one knows. But in the meantime we’ll do our very best to get you well again. Which is why I’d like to examine you now. I’m afraid you’ll have to submit to some more scans.”

He smiled. “I was so out of it for most of them that I don’t remember. Why did you really bring me here? Are things more complicated than they seem?”

Donna shook her head, her thick ponytail swishing over her shoulders. Such glorious, beautiful hair. “Not at all. I’d just like to get the best information possible so I can treat you.”

“No experiments?”

She laughed. “No experiments. We’ve got a well-tested new treatment up our sleeve. But as for any therapy, I need to get the full picture.”

“Scan away,” Dave offered.

“I suppose that’s my cue. Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need from home?”

“A picture of Rose and the bairns. And the book from my bedside table,” Dave said, off the top of his head.

“Will do.”

“Some lunch wouldn’t go amiss. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Donna said conversationally, but Dave didn’t fall for it.

“I’m not really hungry. Painkillers also kill my appetite.”

“That’ll return once food’s on the table,” Dad said.

“I think a salad from Tony’s next door will do for now, Murray, thanks,” Donna said.

Dad nodded and left the room after he’d given him a pat on the shoulder and a slightly wobbly smile.

Dave closed his eyes.

“You can stop being strong now,” Donna said once they were alone.

Dave relaxed despite himself. “There’s no hiding from you, is there?”

“Afraid not. Is it that bad?”

“Depends.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry. All you need to do for the scans is lie still.”

He swallowed. “If you can give me more ice I suppose I can manage that.”

She obliged and slipped more of the blessed chips into his mouth. “Tell me about my bairns. Rose, the school.”

“The bairns went to school this morning. Apparently, they were excited as well as comforted by the idea of you being here. It’s humbling how much they trust us.”

“You lot saved Paul. I can’t fault them,” Dave said. He shivered when Donna removed the covers so she could get a clearer image. Gooseflesh erupted on his skin. Hopefully, Dad would bring some fresh pants and t-shirts. He felt manky already.

“It’s nothing as bad this time. They can’t wait to see you this afternoon, though. So you should get some rest after lunch.”

“No objection there,” he said.

Donna pulled a mobile phone-sized device from the pocket of her lab-coat. It was amazing how sophisticated things had become, even in the few years since Paul had been here. She ran the device over his body first before concentrating on his injuries. The pain was bearable now. Whatever they had given him worked well, without inducing any nausea. After a few minutes she was done. No poking, no prodding.

“There,” she said cheerfully, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Anything interesting?” he asked as she continued to look at the tiny screen. He was torn between asking her to share the images she’d taken of his body, inside and out, and adhering to the old adage of ignorance is bliss.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Not particularly. I think that we’ll get by with artificial skin grafts. They should do nicely, leaving no scar tissue at all. You were lucky, Dave.”

“Dumb luck, I suppose.”

Donna stared at him. “You have no idea, do you?”

He frowned, the movement tiring him. “What are you talking about?”

“You saved all the students’ lives in there. Not just Lottie’s. If it hadn’t been for your calm there would have been more casualties,” Donna said.

He blinked. He hadn’t done anything apart from trying to find a safe way out, and the others had followed him without question, trusting him unfailingly. That was all. “How many casualties are there?”

“You’re the worst off,” Donna said. “There were a few other that suffered from smoke inhalation too, but none as severe as yours. You’re quite the hero.”

He snorted. “I’m nothing of the sort. I just know the building well.”

“And you yelled at all the kids in there to follow you,” she added.

“Can I talk to Rose?”

“Of course you can. Your mobile’s in your bedside table.”

Before she left she placed his phone in his left hand. Taking a deep breath, he dialled awkwardly. Rose picked up at the first ring.

“Dave!”

“Hello, love,” he said, his voice trembling as his heart beat wildly at hearing her say his name. It suddenly hit him how close they’d come, once again, to losing each other. He squeezed his eyes shut at the hurt of that thought. “How are you?”

There was a short pause before she said, “Bored. Missing you.” 

Something seemed a bit off between them, but he couldn't to tell what it was. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I am. Oh, Dave. I was so scared.”

“Don’t be. Donna tells me she’ll be able to restore me to my pretty former self in no time. Which is why she’s transferred me here. Apparently, she’s got something up her sleeve that puts the cosmetic surgeon at the Old Royal to shame. And Lottie’s at home, sleeping the last of the shock off.” The words poured out of him in a helpless attempt to comfort her.

“Yeah, so they’ve told me.”

“There won’t be any scars.”

“I’m not that vain, thank you very much,” she said, and he was glad to hear the laughter in her voice. “I’m glad Murray and Holly have come down from Carlinburn. Anna must have been beastly. Lucy called me last night.”

Dave groaned when he remembered that he shouldn’t, couldn’t, run his hand over his face in frustration. His distress upset Rose, of course, and he wanted to rub his face again. “I’m all right. Just… moved my arm in the wrong way. I honestly don’t know what we can do about Anna. I’ve told Donna I don’t want her here. She’ll be furious.”

“Serves her right, if she wants to keep the bairns away from you.”

He still had to smile when Rose called them bairns. “I love you, Rose.”

There was the pause again, and he had the faint idea that there was something she wanted to tell him. But as earlier, she decided against it for some reason. What — if anything — was she was keeping from him? “I love you too, Dave. I wish I could get on that bloody plane to be with you. The idea that you’re in the Infirmary… and I’m here—”

“At the pool, hopefully relaxing and thinking of me,” he said. “Please, love. I do miss you, but knowing that you’ve finally been forced to get some rest makes it easier. Please enjoy it while you can and don’t worry about us, yeah?” 

“I will, yeah.”

“Rose. Don’t fret.”

She broke into tears. “It’s Davesday, and I’m not — I want — our bubble!”

His heart broke while his mind whispered that this reaction was out of character for her. Something was wrong. “Rose. What is it? Is everything all right?”

She pulled herself together. “I think it's just my emotions getting the better of me now that I can relax a bit and think about things.”

“Get some rest. And we’ll catch up as soon as we can, aye? I’m not much use right now anyway,” he said.

He rang off eventually, wondering what it was that Rose was keeping from him. He debated asking Donna if there was something about that blooming volcano that they weren’t telling him, but whatever she was working on seemed to need her time, she took her time whatever it was she was doing and he didn’t want to summon her with the bell. He was getting drowsy anyway…

-:-

He still had to wear the cannula, which thankfully did without the hissing and bubbling sound in the Infirmary. At first he’d not been best pleased when Donna had decided to continue the oxygen therapy, but when she’d explained that they had added a drug that would help his lungs heal faster, and that she wanted to be absolutely safe because of all the toxic material that had been burning, he’d finally agreed. He’d even suggested that she submit Lottie to the same prolonged treatment.

“You’re a sweet sweet man, Dave,” Donna had smiled. “I’ve already examined her, and she’ll be right as rain after another day’s rest.”

“Right as rain,” Dave mused. He doubted it. Her degree show was ruined. Her perfect work of art. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of the delicate pastel drawings and the matching glazed clay busts of his children. He asked about the works of art.

“I have no idea, but I suppose Lottie will be able to tell you everything she can about them.”

He closed his eyes, forcing the tears that had been pooling in them down his temples.

“Dave?”

He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. “I’m all right,” he forced himself to say. “Just… give me a minute.”

There was a brief pause before Donna told him that she’d forgotten something and would be back soon. Once the door clicked shut behind her, he took another shuddering breath. This was getting ridiculous.

Before he knew it, the door burst open and the bairns came running in. “Dad!”

So that was what Donna had forgotten. A wide smile stretched the skin taut where his tears had dried. “Evie,” he said, sitting up and reaching out for her. The movement strained his injuries and he flopped back into the pillows with a barely suppressed groan.

“Daddy?” Evie asked in a small voice.

“It’s all right,” he managed to say. “I’m just so glad to see you that I forgot about these,” he said, gesturing at the bandages on his right arm and chest. The bairns had come to a stop at a respectful distance from his bed and were looking at him in alarm.

“Does it hurt?” Evie asked.

“Donna makes sure that it doesn’t.”

“Lottie’s at home, in bed,” Ewan informed him. “But Holly is looking after her.”

Dave smiled. “That’s good to know. Where’s your grandfather?”

“He’s chatting to Mickey. Shall I get him?” Paul said.

“Oh no. I want you to myself for a wee bit. Are _you_ all right?”

“Yeah! We got Grandpa and Holly,” Ewan said.

“Ewan!” Evie squealed.

“What about Rose? When’s she coming home?” Paul asked.

“I honestly don’t know. She’s stuck in Riyadh. She and Dominic and the Sheeryans,” he told them. “But I’m sure she’ll call you soon. I don’t suppose there’s much to do there.”

“Apart from living in the world of a thousand and one nights?” Evie asked. “It must be so beautiful there!” Ever since her class had started studying Arabia she wouldn’t talk about anything else. If she could, she’d transform her room into a seraglio. Already, an Arabian style lamp with colourful panes adorned her room alongside a couple of shawls draped over her lamps and some pictures up on the walls. Hopefully Rose wouldn’t spoil her too much with souvenirs when she came home.

“I’m sure it is, but I also know that she misses you lot terribly,” Dave said. “As soon as she’s back we’ll start making plans for the holiday, aye?”

“Will you be able to go?” Paul asked.

“Oh, yes. You know what Donna and Dominic can do. Besides, it looks worse than it is,” Dave said. “Don’t you worry, aye? I’ll be right as rain. You might as well enjoy your little holiday from me and Rose while you can.”

“Can we have a party?” Paul asked, his eyes widening.

“Not during the week,” Dave said. “And I’m sure that both Rose and I will be back home by the weekend.”

“I’m glad that Grandpa and Holly are here to look after us. Beattie and Anna were fighting all the time,” Evie said.

Dave frowned and patted the empty bits of the bed in invitation. The children were still standing in front of his bed. Evie was the first to hop on, and she was careful as she leaned over his good side for a kiss and a cuddle. He wanted to hold her a while longer and inhale the strawberry scent of her hair, but his boys needed a cuddle as well, although they’d not admit it, let alone ask for one. It was always good to have a bed full of children, and the idea that one day they’d be too old for that saddened him.


	9. Chapter 9

He had dinner with the bairns after Donna had removed the cannula. At first he was glad to be rid of the bits of plastic in his nose, but to his surprise he missed it too. Not that he needed it. Whatever medication had been mixed into the oxygen had worked wonders, and he could breathe pretty easily now. His chest and arm were another story, however. When the painkillers wore off, the burning sensation was all consuming. And he was restricted in his movement by the translucent grafting bandages that Donna had applied. Despite them, she urged him to have dinner in the family room with the children. She wanted them to be as comfortable as possible without the constant reminder of the hospital environment while they enjoyed their food. Luckily, there was no reason why he shouldn’t have some of Tony’s delicious food, and he was ravenous. He couldn't even remember when he'd last eaten.

While they were polishing off the hazelnut cake the bairns gave him a present to “speed along" his recovery.” Evie placed a red box with a blue ribbon before him after the boys cleared away the dishes. Dave had been getting tired again, but the unexpected gift buoyed him one last time that night.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything,” he said, touched. “I miss you so much I want to be back home with you as soon as possible.”

“Open it!” Ewan urged him.

Loathe to disappoint them, he tugged the ribbon loose and Evie helped with the lid, pushing the box towards him so he could have a look at the contents before she lifted it out. What he saw was quite unmistakably the focusing hood of a vintage twin-lens camera. A flash of excitement lit up the part of his mind with ideas of how to use this brilliant piece of equipment while the more reasonable part of his brain told him that this was far too expensive a gift. Even if he'd always dreamed of owning such a beauty, he couldn’t accept it. He pushed the box away with his good hand.

The bairns’ open-mouthed frowns broke his heart, and he decided to give them their money back. It was, after all, too good to give up. “What’s wrong, Dad?” Paul asked.

“Don’t you like it?” Evie asked.

“Yes, I do. But it’s… it’s too expensive,” Dave said. “For a gift on this occasion, that is.”

Ewan had been sitting up straight in anticipation of his reaction and slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed. “You haven’t even looked at it.”

“You’ll have to take it out of its box for me,” he said. 

Ewan obliged at once, lifting the camera out of the box with exaggerated care and held it up for him to inspect. Dave wanted to hold the camera in his right hand but the required twisting motion tightened the grafting bandage on his lower arm and he winced. “Take it!” he urged Ewan, who placed it on the table before them. Dave sighed in relief. “Sorry. She’s beautiful. Barely used. She must be worth more than all four of you could possibly afford. That’s why I can’t keep her, not unless I do without all your birthday and Christmas gifts for the rest of my life.”

“It wasn’t expensive, Dad!” Evie protested.

“It wasn’t,” Paul confirmed. “We picked it up at the charity sale at school, and we thought that even if it’s broken it’s still a nice memento for you to keep on your desk.”

Dave relaxed. He hadn’t considered that possibility, simply because the camera looked like it was in perfect condition, almost new, really. And he loved the thoughtfulness of the gift.

“We’d planned to give it to you on father’s day, but we thought that you could do with some cheering up today. What with M—Rose stuck in Arabia,” Ewan said.

Dave held his breath. Had Ewan just been about to refer to Rose by the m-word? 

“And because you’re a hero!” Evie added seriously.

“I’m not. I was as scared as everyone else in the studio,” Dave said. “It wouldn’t do to leave you to your own devices, eh?” All three of the children blinked. Apparently, they hadn’t realised how close they’d been to losing him. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes his gob was impossible. “Well, thank you for this beautiful gift.”

“I worked out how to use it,” Ewan said proudly. “The instruction leaflet is the only thing missing. It even came with a leather case and extra film!”

“Ewan!” Paul cried in annoyance. “We wanted to give him those for father’s day.”

Ewan had the grace to blush in embarrassment, and Dave was unable to suppress a grin. “You’ll have to show me how it works when I can move my arm properly.”

“Does it hurt?” Ewan looked sorrowfully at his arm and chest. Somehow, and with Frankie’s help, he’d managed to put on a button down pyjama shirt. 

“Do you remember when you touched the hob?”

Ewan winced at the memory.

“I don’t remember,” Evie reminded them.

“It happened when you were a wee baby. It hurts badly, but Donna gives me some painkillers so it’s not that bad.”

Ewan explained to him how the camera worked. It was a beautiful Rolleiflex, a beloved classic Dave had dreamed of owning one since he first fell in love with photography, and once again when Sean had allowed him to use his for a shoot. Sean’s wasn’t in such a good condition as this beauty. “You have to tell me how much it was. It’s too—”

“Dad, we told you. Besides, Mum said we could. She loved the idea,” Ewan said.

Dave’s heart skipped a beat, and warm gratitude and love filled the space around his heart. “Mum?”

“Rose,” Evie said as if it weren’t obvious enough. It wasn’t, not to him. This was the first time he’d heard them refer to Rose as their mum.

“Aye,” he squeaked. There was no gracious way of hiding his emotional reaction. “Of course.”

“We have two Mums,” Evie explained. “Just like Lucy has two Dads.”

He cleared his throat. “Quite right too.” It just was unexpected, particularly because the bairns had made it clear that although they loved Rose they’d never regard her as their mum. But rather than killing the moment by over analysing this new development, he decided to just go with it for now. 

He took a photo of the bairns with the help of some books piled on the table. His right arm was too sore to move, but he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. When his dad came to take them home, he took a photo of the four of them. “I used to have one just like this,” he said.

“You did? I don’t remember,” Dave said.

“I owned it before we had you.”

“What happened?”

“We were a little short of money so I had to give it away. Don’t worry, it was a friend,” Dad said. “Well now, dearies. Ready to go home?”

Dave walked them to the front door and waved as his Volvo pulled out of the courtyard. He thought of the camera and the word they’d gifted him with tonight, and he found it difficult to breathe. The evening was mild, the daylight hours lengthening, so he sat on the bench just outside the door to compose himself.

It wasn’t easy. While the bairns were right about having two mums he couldn’t fight the fear that they were letting go of Rita. Or even worse, they may be forgetting her altogether. _He_ was starting to forget her. In every thought he had of her, he found a small detail missing, and he was afraid of the day when all he had of her was the feeling of having loved her.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he allowed them to flow freely. Maybe it was time to listen to the bairns and let Rita go. If they could do it with such equanimity, so should he. 

When he looked up, he did so just in time to see two people at the open front gates of the Priory. He hid the evidence of his tears and sat a little straighter, wondering whether to approach them. They were an odd pair: a short woman in a long dress straight from a Renaissance fair, and a tall boy in short trousers, shirt and a knitted pullover. He looked as if he’d stepped out of a 1940s film. The woman had her arm around his shoulders, and, setting her face into a mask of determination, they entered the courtyard.

Dave stood, cradling his sore arm carefully. “Can I help you?”

The pair gave him a look as if he were the one in inappropriate dress. He’d slipped on a light robe over his jimjams, and he was wearing the pair of Toms his father had brought him since he didn’t own slippers. “I’m not so sure,” the woman said with a thick Scottish accent.

“Reception is through there,” he said, gesturing at the pair of sliding glass doors they had just passed, and which were the front doors of the National Heritage Trust. “Is the trust hiring re-enactors?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well,” he said, gesturing at their clothes with his left hand.

The woman held his gaze evenly. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but her hairstyle and her cap, including her accessories and shoes, were as authentic as he’d ever seen them. The same went for the boy, who had yet to say anything. His hair was floppy and in need of a comb, but he’d clearly made an effort to tame it. Fear and hostility rolled off him in waves, making Dave pull himself up a little. The darkness in the lad’s eyes wasn’t just the dark brown of his irises. His jaw was set, too, hinting at the chiselled features of the lad as an adult.

“I’m — we’re looking for Torchwood Institute,” she said coolly.

If they knew about Torchwood it was probably okay to quit the charade. “You’ve come to the right place,” Dave said. “The entry is through there. Just tell Annie at reception you’re here to talk to Mickey Smith.”

“Thank you kindly, dear sir,” the woman said. She dropped her arm from the boy’s shoulders, and as she stepped away he saw the small dagger fastened to her belt.

“Who are you?”

The woman stiffened briefly at the challenge, but there was also a cloud flitting over her green eyes as she became aware of something. Her language wasn’t as formal and old fashioned as before when she said, “A Torchwood agent.”

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Dave said.

“Likewise.”

“My wife’s the director of Torchwood Glasgow,” he said, deciding to play the husband card despite himself. He hated doing that.

But it had the desired effect. The woman relaxed visibly. And oddly enough, she suddenly looked not only out of place in her period clothes, she looked out of place wearing them as well.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Dave asked, finally understanding.

“We are, just not… from 2014.”

-:-

Dominic and Rose had made hasty excuses to the Sheeryan when Mickey called her. Aquiouk and Semimnan looked intrigued, as well as a little ill at ease, at the mention of a situation in Glasgow. Rose promised to update them as soon as possible as she and Dominic left the pool to talk to Mickey in her room.

They quickly established a video call, reminding Rose that it was getting late in Glasgow and she ought to call the bairns soon. Two hours’ difference in time wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but when it came to her children’s bedtime, it certainly was.

“Her name is Isla Law,” Mickey said, consulting an old-fashioned folder that was sitting in front of him on the desk. “She was a Torchwood field agent from 1918 until she disappeared without a trace. I’ve got her file here, and it seems she’s legit. Photo and fingerprints match. Donna’s in the lab running her DNA samples.”

“Doesn’t seem as if that’s strictly necessary,” Dominic said, who was always mindful of not wasting time and resources. “So she disappeared in 1920 and ended up on our doorstep?”

“Dave was the first to meet them. And I’m afraid it’s a little bit more complicated in her case,” Mickey said. “The Doctor would have a field day with them.”

“Who’s the other person?”

Mickey puffed out his cheeks. “That would by Patrick Fraser, 16. He’s from 1941.”

“So two people from two different years in the past have turned up,” Rose said.

“Two people from three different years,” Mickey corrected. “Miss Law was displaced in time twice. Once from 1920 to 1454, where she lived for six years, and from then to today.”

Rose leaned back in the sofa. “The Doctor _would_ have a field day with them. Are they from Pete’s World?”

Mickey nodded. “No void stuff on them, although we found some interesting stuff on Isla that we haven’t been able to explain quite yet. The boys are on it, though.”

“And we’re stuck here!” Rose cried in exasperation.

Mickey frowned at her strong reaction, and she was suddenly aware of how tense she’d been. She schooled her expression into her Vitex heiress mask, which only deepened Mickey’s frown. He knew something was not quite right, and he’d ask her about it as soon as he got the chance.

“Any ideas on how they got here… now?” Dominic asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Are they healthy? I’m thinking of Isla in particular.”

“Donna’s on it as well. It’s Patrick I’m worried about. Isla is a trained Torchwood agent, but he isn’t, and he's having a hard time coping, now that he’s safe.”

Rose sat up. “How come the two arrived together?”

“Isla found him down by the river, in one of the classic Rift spots, and took care of him. He was bewildered then, but right now? Belligerent is putting it mildly.”

“Lily’s from 1941. How about setting up a meeting between the two? She’s been through it all, she might be able to help,” Dominic suggested.

“Fab idea! Will do,” Mickey scribbled something down on a pad in front of him. 

“If she’s up to it,” Rose added. “Please be gentle, aye?”

“Is there something I should know?”

Rose shook her head. “Not as far as I’m aware, but meeting someone from home is a tad upsetting, no matter how well-adjusted you are and how much at home you feel here.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So two people from two times turn up through the Rift,” Rose summarised. “Any other recent Rift activity? Any theories?”

“The Icelandic volcano is our best shot. The seismic activity might have an impact on Rift stability. I’ve sent Tom to set up a weather station where they turned up.” Weather station was Torchwood code for monitoring station; it basically looked like a weather station but did so much more than that. People were used to seeing those around so they usually ignored them; they were hidden in plain sight.

“We could ask the Sheeryans for assistance. They’ve got a bird’s eye view and might pick up things we don’t,” Rose mused. “Aquiouk and Semimnan will contact them soonish, I suppose.”

“Why haven’t they gone to pick you up anyway?” Mickey wondered. “It’s not like they’re bothered by the cloud of ash at their lofty height.”

“The thought had occurred to me too, to be honest,” Dominic said.

“I discussed this with Aquiouk. Their ship is in deep hiding, and since we’re in no immediate danger they aren’t authorised to leave their position. Apparently, their commanders are a bit anal about that sort of thing,” Rose said.

“Anal?” Mickey echoed with a face distorted by mirth and disgust.

Rose shrugged, grinning. “So how’s my dear husband?”

“He’s fine. The children were here after school. Murray just picked them up. We’d ordered in from Tony’s.”

“I’d love his pizza right now,” Rose sighed.

“Oi! You’re getting spoiled in a proper oriental hotel. Don’t you tell me anything about a craving for pizza!”

Rose bit her lip. He was right. It was just that, a craving. “I’d better go and call the bairns. It’s their bedtime, or Evie’s at least. Keep us updated, yeah? I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do?”

“Stop fretting and get some rest.”

“Yes, sir,” Rose mock-saluted and ended the connection.

After she talked to the children, she joined the men for dinner in the dining room. Because of the heat, dinner time was traditionally later than they were used to. Rose didn’t mind much. She lost her appetite to the heat and sun under the best of circumstances. During the meal they discussed the news with the Sheeryans. They were their liaisons, which was why any decision about helping them in their scanning endeavours had to go through their guests.

Aquiouk and Semimnan exchanged a meaningful look when Rose showed them a satellite photo of the ash cloud. If it weren’t interfering with air travel, it would have been a pretty sight to behold. “It’s like a beacon,” Semimnan mused, studying the photo through his fake glasses. He passed the photo on to Aquiouk.

Rose sat up a little straighter. “A beacon?”

“Yes. You know. Like a distress signal. In the old days, our people would light fires with material generating a lot of smoke to attract each other’s attention over long distances,” Semimnan explained. “This reminds me of that.”

“Well, it’s just a volcano,” Dominic said. “Eruptions are caused by nature. It would be great if we were able to control them. There are a few active volcanoes in densely populated areas, and the ability to control them would change people’s lives.”

“Well, why do they live there in the first place?” Aquiouk asked.

“The soil there is exceptionally fertile. And most volcanoes erupt so rarely that people accept the risk of living in their shadow,” Dominic added.

“Like Pompeii,” Semimnan said.

“Exactly.”

“But why would they be beacons?” Rose asked. “Whose attention do they attract? I mean, what with all the satellites and what not we’ve got in our orbit? Surely, all those objects say that more clearly to say, and more permanently, than a cloud of smoke from a volcano that hasn’t erupted in two-hundred years? And in two- and even seven-hundred years before that?”

Aquiouk took a moment be fore he answered. “There are species out there that would be attracted by something like that.”

“What?”

“The Yreno. They’re our neighbours. The kind you don’t talk to because they’re noisy and embarrassing,” Semimnan said. “Some of them live on Earth.”

Rose stared at him.

“They have lived here for a while, in fact. Which is why we were so reluctant to make contact with you."


End file.
